by Kim Baldwin
She had lost a good bit of her stores, she realized, taking a more complete mental inventory than she’d allowed herself earlier. Several of the cans were dented but salvageable. But the rack that held her bins of flour, cornmeal, rice, and dried potatoes had been overturned, and Otter had scattered nearly all her stock of dried peas and beans on the floor in his successful effort to trip her up. About half of her bottled stores—mustard, ketchup, dressings, salsas, and syrups—had been used as ammo. She regretted most the loss of the two bottles of Blue Front Barbecue Sauce she’d brought all the way from Florida.
It would be hard to feed four people for very long on what remained.
Kat’s stomach rumbled as she reached for a box of macaroni and cheese, so she took two boxes off the shelf. Then she rummaged around the mess on the floor until she found a couple of cans of fruit.
This will be fun to clean up, she thought, sniffing the air with a grimace. The room smelled...fishy. She spotted the broken remains of an economy-sized bottle of Thai fish sauce on the floor, right where Otter had been lying.
She grinned. Otter hated fish.
*
Kat wolfed down a healthy portion of the makeshift meal she’d thrown together. The rest she put on a tray and carried to the bedroom. She set it down on the bedside table and gently shook Jake awake.
Jake grumbled at the touch, protesting the interruption of a rather erotic dream she was having, until she opened her eyes and saw the object of her fantasies in the flesh. Then she came quickly awake, her nose immediately trying to identify the source of a tantalizing aroma. She turned her head, saw the tray, and her smile widened. Forgetting her injuries for a moment, she tried to prop herself up to eat.
The pain in her knee and wrist was unbearable. “Ow! OwOwOwOwOwOwOw!” Finally the worst of it abated. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Kat leaning over her.
“Sorry, I should have warned you not to try to move,” Kat said. “Your knee is full of fluid, and I think you’ve broken your wrist in a new place.”
“Oh, that’s just great.” Jake shook her head and blew out a long breath of exasperation.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you fixed up and feeling better,” Kat said. “Let me help you sit up to eat. You need to get your strength back. We’ll deal with your injuries after you do.” She got Jake into a more comfortable position, her back against the headboard of the bed, and set the tray in front of her.
The venison, already cut into bite-sized portions, shared a plate with a generous pile of macaroni and cheese. The tenderloin had been finished in a sauce made of red wine and dried cherries. There was also a small plate of canned pear and peach segments, and a glass of merlot.
“This really looks and smells wonderful,” Jake said, reaching for her fork. “I can’t believe how hungry I am.”
“I’m not surprised,” Kat answered. “You covered a few miles out there. It must have been incredibly difficult with your knee.”
Jake stopped chewing for a moment to look at Kat, who had dropped into the chair beside the bed. Dark circles rimmed Kat’s eyes. She looked absolutely exhausted. Jake pictured Kat walking those same long miles in the dark, in the snow, to find her...then walking them yet again while carrying her.
“I’m sorry, Kat,” Jake said. “I know I should have stayed put, like you asked me to.” She put the fork down, her appetite momentarily forgotten. “I tried to, but I finally just had to get up to pee. And when I was coming back, I saw the TVs. I saw you fighting that man, and I thought you were in trouble and needed help.” After a long pause, she added, “But apparently you didn’t.” Jake was obviously curious about what had happened, but she wanted Kat to volunteer the information.
Kat nodded toward the food. “Eat that before it gets cold.”
Jake reached for the fork and resumed eating, slower this time. She watched Kat, hoping for an explanation.
Kat fidgeted under Jake’s unwavering stare. She closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts. She knew she could delay no longer. She was about to make a leap of faith—an action virtually unknown to her.
“Jake,” she began, her voice unexpectedly husky. She sat forward in the chair and looked at Jake. Her throat went dry. She swallowed hard. “There are a lot of things about myself I haven’t told you.” She paused. “That I haven’t told anyone.” Another pause. She bit her lip. “A lot of unpleasant things, things that most people wouldn’t understand.” She looked away again and stared at the floor. She held her hands tightly together on her lap.
“The work that I do, the real work, I mean—nature photography is more my avocation...” She took her time, careful to choose the right words. “The real work I do is very dangerous and very secretive. I guess you could say I hunt down people who are big problems. Problems that individuals can’t deal with alone or that governments turn a blind eye to. Some that law enforcement can’t do anything about...who have to be dealt with...outside the law.”
Kat’s throat constricted. She forced herself to look at Jake. She had to see what Jake’s reaction would be. “Sometimes,” she continued, her expression a mask, “I have to kill people.”
Jake’s eyebrows furrowed as the news registered. But she did not shy away from Kat. And when she spoke, her voice was calm, her tone more curious than alarmed. “Did you have to kill the man I saw you fighting with?”
“No,” Kat responded, avoiding Jake’s eyes again. She took a deep breath. Opening up to Jake made her feel exposed. Vulnerable. But a measure of relief washed over her at Jake’s mild reaction to her news. “I didn’t kill him. Or the other one,” she added as an afterthought. “They’re both fine.”
“The other one?” Jake’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes got wide.
“Uh, yeah,” Kat admitted. She’d forgotten Jake had never seen Otter—she must have assumed the food fight in the dark had been with the same intruder Kat had fought with on the monitor.
“Yeah, there were two,” Kat said. “They’re both okay, just trussed up for the moment in the other room.” She nodded in the direction of the door. “The generator room, on the other side of the tunnel.” She paused, clearly disarmed by the change in subject at such a critical point in her confession. “I’ll get back to them in a minute.”
Jake nodded, her attention fully on Kat. Her look was expectant. Her food was cold. She didn’t notice.
Kat cleared her throat. She looked at the floor. She wiped sweaty palms against her jeans, stalling while she considered what she would say next. Jake didn’t seem horrified by her profession. Kat wondered whether it was because some part of Jake still inherently recognized the job, even with her amnesia.
Kat hadn’t planned on ever telling her new friend about what she had learned about Jake’s real identity. But she was reconsidering that now. I still don’t want to lie to you, do I?
“Jake,” she said, leaning back in the chair. “You said you remembered your brother. Have you remembered anything else?”
It took Jake a moment to register what she thought was an abrupt change in subject. “No. I just had a picture of him. A name, an impression that we’re pretty close. Why? What does that have to do with what’s going on? Who are those men?” She wished Kat would get back to what she’d been talking about.
But Kat wouldn’t look at her. And she acted as though she hadn’t heard Jake’s question. “Have you recalled anything at all about what you might have done—what job you might have had or skills you used in your past?”
Jake took a deep breath to calm her irritation with the continued questioning. Not that she didn’t care about her past. Certainly she did. But she really couldn’t remember anything else, and Kat seemed to be deliberately avoiding further talk about her own life and these “unpleasant things” that she said she had done.
“I really don’t remember anything about that,” Jake said. “Just what I’ve told you before. I think I’ve traveled a lot. Why? Why all these questions?”
Kat bit her lip, nod
ding slightly. She stared at the door opposite her chair, as if to bolt to it at any moment. Her next question really seemed to come out of left field. “Do you remember if you’ve ever held a gun? Or fired one?”
Jake frowned. Do you know something about who I am that you’re not telling me? She tried to visualize herself with a gun. A pistol. Then a rifle. At a shooting range, or hunting animals. She shrugged. “Doesn’t seem familiar. I don’t think so. But I just don’t know.”
“Okay,” Kat said, nodding as if in agreement. As though Jake’s answer settled more questions in her mind than just the one she’d asked.
Jake’s curiosity could be contained no longer. She leaned toward Kat, reaching out her hand to touch the other woman’s arm. Kat had to look at her. “What aren’t you telling me, Kat?” “Am I a policewoman or something? Are you?”
Kat’s face clearly showed how unexpected that question was. She flinched and blushed deep red, as though she were a child caught in a lie. She looked away.
“No, Jake, we’re not law enforcement.” Her low voice sounded apologetic, and a little sad. “We’re bounty hunters. Mercenaries. We’re in the business of hunting people down for money. So are the two men tied up in the other room. They’re here hunting for me. To kill me.”
Jake gaped at Kat, her eyes wide in shock, her mind unable to immediately grasp all that she had heard. “We?” she finally asked. “I’m a...a bounty hunter, too?”
Kat still couldn’t meet her eyes. “I think so, yes.” A long moment passed before she added, “I think you came out here to kill me too.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
What?” Jake gasped. This had to be a very bad joke or some terrible mistake. But Kat was obviously deadly serious. “Kat,” she begged, a rush of panic threatening to overwhelm her, “please look at me.”
Kat did. But her expression was cold, unreadable.
“You can’t believe that!” Jake pleaded, her eyes welling with tears. She found it impossible to accept that she was a bounty hunter—let alone even consider the possibility that she might have ever intended to do Kat harm. She shook her head back and forth, back and forth. “You can’t be serious!” Her voice had a tremor in it. “I could never hurt you, surely you know that.”
Kat’s expression softened, and she nodded. “You proved that when you came out in the snow trying to help me.” She looked away for a moment as if lost in thought. “That was a brave and selfless act, Jake.” A hint of a smile appeared at the edge of her lips. “Even if it was also an incredibly stupid thing to do.” The warmth returned to her eyes.
“But I believed in my heart even before that, Jake,” Kat volunteered. “I knew that something extraordinary was happening between us. Something rare and very precious. And something more powerful than anything in our pasts.” She looked into Jake’s eyes for confirmation as she said this.
Jake nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry I’ve kept things from you,” Kat said, taking Jake’s hand. “I don’t know who you are—your real identity, I mean. But I got a heads-up about a woman bounty hunter who was coming after me. Her name was Scout. Does that ring a bell?”
“Scout? No.” Jake shrugged.
“Well, you fit the description and you showed up out here about the time I got the warning.” Kat leaned toward Jake. “The car you were driving was stolen, and there was no ID on you or in the car. Both are pretty typical of people in our line of work. But what really convinced me was what I found in your trunk. A photo of me and a high-powered takedown sniper rifle, just like one I have.”
Jake shook her head. An inner voice denied she was capable of any of this. She envisioned herself as a musician or artist. Something creative. She wasn’t—couldn’t be—a mercenary. A killer for hire. But then she still couldn’t believe it of Kat either, despite what she had witnessed tonight.
A new thought occurred to her. “When did you find all this out?” she asked Kat.
Kat tried to think back. “Well, I suspected from about the first day,” she said. “I knew the car was stolen almost immediately, and I found the photo and rifle when I went back to it the second or third day, whenever it was.” Time had all jumbled together for her since the accident. The long periods without sleep and the lack of natural sunlight in the bunker made it difficult to tell how much time had elapsed between events. She rarely glanced at her watch.
“Then why did you save me?” Jake pressed. “Why go through everything you did if you thought I was here to kill you? I don’t understand that at all.”
“I don’t think I had much choice,” Kat replied. “That’s the easiest way to explain, I guess. It wasn’t something I normally would have done,” she admitted. “But I felt compelled to get involved when I saw your car go off the road and flip over. Something just pushed me forward to help. And when I saw you...well, you were hurt, and vulnerable, and I just kind of felt protective toward you.” She grew silent for a moment or two, fighting the hint of a blush that threatened to blossom on her cheeks. “After we...kissed...” she continued, looking down at their joined hands, “Well, that kind of sealed it for me.”
Saying such things was incredibly difficult for Kat, who had never had an intimate relationship. For the first time in her life, she was fighting shyness, feeling incredibly inexperienced and naïve about how to go about getting close to the woman who had so captivated her. These feelings were extremely unsettling to Kat, even as they were exciting. She was used to being alone, being in control, using cold reasoning alone to make all her important decisions. She felt unprepared for this. But her logical mind had long ago given way to what her instincts and her heart were telling her to do.
“Jake,” Kat said, determined to finish what she needed to say, “I’ve never really been close to anyone. Not really. I never thought I could be, doing what I do.” Her hand began to caress Jake’s as she spoke, and Jake responded in kind. “But I very much want to be close to you.”
“I want that too. Very much,” Jake said, her voice breaking on the last two words. Her hand gripped Kat’s tightly for a moment for emphasis. “All of this is...difficult for me to believe, to say the least. I admit I’m kind of having a hard time with a lot of what you’ve told me. Particularly about my past. But I do know, I do very much believe, that we are supposed to be together.”
Kat looked into Jake’s eyes and let out a long breath. The creases in her forehead and around her eyes relaxed. The edges of her mouth curved upward into a hint of a smile. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and Jake’s heart skipped a beat.
“Kat,” Jake whispered. “Do you know anything more about my wedding ring?”
“No,” Kat said. “I can tell you that bounty hunters often adopt other identities when they’re pursuing someone. Well, some do, anyway. I’ve used a wedding ring on a few occasions myself. But I don’t know whether yours is real or not.”
“Well, I have to admit I hope it’s a fake,” Jake said. “I hope there is no one waiting somewhere for me.”
Kat nodded in agreement. While they talked, both women continued the soft caresses of their joined hands.
“What are you going to do about those two men?” Jake asked. “And how did they find you?”
Kat’s fingertips paused in their soft tracing of Jake’s inner wrist and palm, a sensation that both women found eminently pleasing and increasingly distracting. “They followed the track I made getting you here from where the car crashed. But it’s snowed a lot since then, so I don’t think we have to worry about anyone else showing up.” Her touch resumed its gentle path along Jake’s smaller hands. Such delicate hands.
“As to what I’m going to do with them...Well, I’m going to keep them confined until you’re well enough to leave. I’ll have to give up this place anyway, now that it’s been found.”
She said this matter-of-factly, but Jake could tell from her wistful expression that Kat would really miss the bunker. She would too, she realized. She felt s
afe here, despite the last few hours.
“Speaking of getting you out of here,” Kat said, nodding toward the forgotten food on the tray, “you have to get your strength back, and you need to eat to do that. So I’m going to go warm this up, and while you finish it, I’ll work on your wrist and knee. Okay?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Jake agreed. Her stomach was beginning to reassert itself at the mention of the food.
Kat rose and picked up the tray. “I’ll have to go into town. We don’t have enough food for four people for very long, and there are a few other things I’d like to pick up. Some antibiotics for your knee and some plaster so I can do a better cast for your wrist.”
“When will you leave?” Jake asked.
“Soon. It’s snowing now and will be for a while, so it will cover my tracks there and back. If I leave in a couple of hours, I’ll get to town just as everything is opening up—when there are few people about.” She smiled. “I’ll be very quick. I bet you sleep through the whole thing.”
I doubt that, Jake thought but didn’t say. When I’m not worrying about you, I’ll be trying to picture myself as an assassin. Not the kind of thing likely to induce nice dreams. “I’ll try,” she managed. “If you promise to be careful.”
“Always,” Kat confirmed, giving Jake a wink as she picked up the tray and headed for the door. She liked having someone concerned about her welfare.
So damn cute, Jake thought, watching her leave. Then she thought again about Kat’s assertion that she had been headed here to kill her, and her stomach sank. I hope I never remember.
*
Otter had a hell of a headache. That was the first thing that penetrated his consciousness. The second was the awareness that he couldn’t move much. The third was the nauseating stench of dead fish that permeated his nostrils. His stomach lurched as he blinked his eyes, trying to remember what had happened.
He was lying on his side, his hands bound behind him, on a cold concrete floor. He could see a couple of snowmobiles, and if he craned his head, he could see what looked like a generator. As his mind hit upon what had happened to him he heard a cough from behind. He struggled to roll over, expecting to find Hunter gloating over him.