His face softened a little, and the typical gleam in his eye returned. “Just don’t let it happen again,” he said before he turned to leave. With a final warning of, “And I mean it!” called over his shoulder.
She raised a hand to her head and saluted him with a teasing smile. “Sir, yes, sir!”
“Well, that was certainly interesting, eh, Dove?”
Stevie shut the door and blew out a breath that ruffled her hair. “Why the heck is my car at the docks? Whoever moved it, and I’m suspecting it’s the bald guy, moved it to draw me out. Do you think it’s Von Krause?”
“Well, without a shadow of a doubt, I can tell you the man you tangled with last night was not Von Krause. Was he an associate? I wouldn’t be shocked, which is why I’m going to insist you take extra care. Maybe we’ve made a mistake in not telling the police about this, Stephania.”
She pursed her lips as she headed back to the kitchen to grab her cell phone and purse. “No! No calling in anyone until we get my car. Maybe there’s a clue as to who took it inside. I mean, what bad guy brings the car back to the person he stole it from, for Pete’s sake?”
“He didn’t bring it back, Dove. He dropped it off in a random place to catch your attention. And if that’s an Uber you’re dialing up, cut it out. There’ll be no Ubers tonight. Let’s wait for broad daylight and a nice police officer, like Officer Nelson, to help retrieve it.”
“You can’t have it both ways, Win. We can’t lie about why it’s there to Sandwich and ask Dana for help to pick it up if we don’t tell him why we need help, and I stand firmly on that. I’m not involving the police just yet. The police who, by the by, I’ve told more tall tales to than Hans Christian Andersen. I mean, are you forgetting we had Dana babysit our biggest lie of all?”
This woman will surely, one day soon, send me right over the edge. If there’s danger, Stevie’s like mayhem’s beacon.
“Oh, Dove. There’s just no talking to you, is there?”
“Besides,” she reminded as she grabbed her shoes. “It’s not even dark yet. We have at least another two hours before it gets dark. There’ll be people on the dock at this time of night.”
“Yes, I’m sure a drunk or two is easily had at this time of night, Stephania.”
“Oh, stop,” she crowed at me as though there had never been a drunk, unruly tourist on the docks ever. “It’ll be fine. Look, I’ll ask the Uber guy to wait while we get in the car and be sure I’m safe, okay?”
I rasped a sigh. As if my opinion would matter anyway. “That’ll have to do, I suppose, Stephania.”
“It will, because here comes Aiden now.” She pointed out the span of windows in the dining room to the car pulling up our long drive. “He’s a good guy. He’ll wait for me if I give him a big tip. Okay?”
I scoffed at her. “As if I have a choice?”
She grinned at me as she pulled the door open and reset the security alarm. “You don’t. Bel? Stay with Whiskey and keep him company, okay? Be back in a jiff.”
I had no choice but to follow her out the door, but I’m telling you all right now, I didn’t like it.
* * * *
Stevie leaned into the window of Aiden’s car and smiled at the surfer-ish blond young fellow, giving him a generous cash tip. “You’re the best, Aiden. I’m going to hit you up so hard on Yelp with the best rating ever. You sure you don’t mind waiting?”
He smiled at her, his eyes shy. I rather wondered if he didn’t fancy my Stephania as some sort of…MILF, is it? Whatever abhorrent acronym the youth of today have given an older woman, Aiden was certainly smitten with her.
“Not at all, Miss Cartwright. You go on and get in and get yourself settled. I’ll wait until you start the car and get moving before I leave. Happy to do it.”
The wind had picked up since this afternoon, and to Stevie’s credit, there were some people on the docks. Enough to witness an assault, that is. Also, it wasn’t dark just yet. She was right.
There. I’ve said it. Her assessment was right.
I let out a breath of air, one I think I’d been holding the entire ride to the docks. As I scanned the horizon, I felt a moment’s relief. For the time being, Stevie was safe, and if nothing else, Aiden was a burly young man with a crush. He’d protect her honor.
She didn’t say another word after thanking Aiden and turning on her heel to head for her car. Which, at first glance, even I had to admit didn’t look as though it had suffered any trauma.
Beeping it open, she climbed inside and started it, listening for what I assume were any funny noises. “Sounds good, yes?” she asked no one. Certainly not me. I assure you, had I any car troubles when I was alive, they weren’t handled by me.
I take pride in many things—hunting a terrorist, surviving an attack in the rain forest by a gang of rogue Lebanese, starting an inferno on an oil rig—but fixing a car isn’t one of them.
“Sounds as it always does to me, Dove.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “You smell that, Win?”
I sniffed. “Do you mean the silly pine tree hanging on the rearview mirror that doesn’t smell at all like a pine tree but a piece of chewed bubble gum?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it doesn’t smell like bubble gum. It smells like a Hawaiian breeze, and no. That’s not what I mean. I mean do you smell that cologne I smelled from last night?”
I sniffed again. “I do not.”
“I do, malutka.” Arkady reentered as swiftly as he’d left, and I’d bet my boots Stevie would keep his reentry low key for the sake of his pride.
She jabbed a finger in the air as she started the car. “See, Win? I knew I was right. That guy who jumped me was in this car last night, and he’s somewhere here in Eb Falls. Now we just have to find him.”
“But not tonight,” I stressed, hoping to appeal to her maternal side. “You have young Hardy and his bedtime to think of.”
She flipped on the headlights and pulled the seat up. “Right. Not tonight. Also, he moved the seat, suggesting he has much longer legs than me. Definitely fits the description of the guy who tackled me in Seattle.”
“Indeed it does. Now hurry along and let Aiden know you’re all right. We can do a more thorough search of the car later, yes, Dove?”
Putting the car in drive, she nodded as I expelled a breath of relief. “Yes. Let’s go grab Hardy and get home. We’ll put him to bed and get started. I know there has to be a clue here. There must.”
Two hours after we’d waved goodbye to Aiden, picked up a very sleepy Hardy, and bathed, changed, and fed him, we were right back where we’d started.
With nothing.
“I’ve scoured this car, Win, and nothing! How can we find nothing? What is he, the Invisible Man? Everyone leaves behind some kind of evidence. It’s like a written rule.”
Arkady and I chuckled as we sat on the bench and watched her rifle through the car in the garage under the bright fluorescent lights for the fifth time tonight.
“If he is one of the goons who does the bad things for Von Krause, he will not leave a trace. He is trained, malutka. Trained to kill.”
Stevie’s head popped up from the backseat, her hair sticking up on end. “Well, if he’s here to kill me, he’s certainly left his imprint all over the place. You don’t suppose Liza won’t tell the police he came looking for me at the store if I go toes up, do you? He hasn’t exactly been discreet, asking all these questions.”
“The point here is not to go toes up, Stephania, while always keeping in mind we don’t know who this bloke is or how dangerous he is,” I reminded her as she dove back under the driver’s seat, feeling around for a clue.
The silence from the backseat made me wonder if we’d finally gotten through to her, when her head popped back up again. “Look! I knew if I kept looking I’d find something! He’s too big to fit in this car without leaving more than his scent behind.” She waved what appeared to be a napkin as though it were the clue to solving everything.
&nb
sp; “What is it, malutka?”
“It’s a piece of napkin from the burger joint in town!” She waved it about like a flag. “Looks like he likes mustard on his burger, because that’s a yellow stain if I ever saw one. Does Von Krause’s goons like hamburgers?”
“Only when the intestines of their foes aren’t readily available,” I said, not even attempting to hide my sarcasm.
Arkady laughed out loud with gusto. “Or maybe he just use napkin to wipe his face after he put mustard on the intestines of his victims and eat like spaghetti?”
Okay, that was rather funny. I laughed, too.
Stevie rolled her eyes at us. “All right, you guys, knock it off. Look, this here is a valid lead. We need to hit the hamburger shop tomorrow and start asking questions.”
“How do we know it’s not your napkin, Stephania? You regularly eat at the Moo Barn.”
“Because I’d rather die than put mustard on my hamburger, for one. Second, I haven’t been there since I had the car cleaned, which was just last Saturday. Not my napkin, of that I’m sure.”
“Okey-doke,” Arkady said. “So we find a dirty napkin, and we are done for tonight, da? This means you must go back inside and lock doors, yes? We must keep you and the wee one safe.”
Stevie leaned against the backseat and sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s better than nothing. And yes, I’ll go back inside and lock the doors, my uptight Russian. If it’ll make you happy that is. I’m beat, anyway.”
“That would make Arkady Bagrov very happ—”
Arkady stopped mid-sentence, his jaw swinging by its hinges as he pointed to the not-so-far-off distance of Plane Limbo.
And then I heard it. An oink. A distinct oink.
Stevie sat upright, turning her head to look around outside, meaning she’d likely heard it, too. “Did I just hear that pig again? Oh, good gravy! Please tell me I’m hearing the pig and it’s not just stress. Say you guys heard it, too. I can’t afford to lose my mind at such a young age. Not when I’m in my prime.”
“Dove! You not only heard it, but we can see it! Arkady, my man—could that be…?”
Arkady turned to grin at me, his white teeth flashing in the shadow of the cherry tree, his eyes gleaming as though he were on a mission. “Zero? Are you thinking what Arkady thinks?”
I slapped him on the back. “Hah! Could that be Cris P. Bacon?”
“Da!” he yelled with more joy in his voice than I’d heard in quite some time. “But what else is Arkady thinking?”
“A swine-chase to the Rainbow Bridge, good man?”
“Da!” he declared, rolling up the legs of his pants and kicking off his shoes.
“Well then, bloke, let the games begin!”
* * * *
Stevie had gone off to bed, leaving Arkady and I to our own devices. Needless to say, we pursued this pig Stevie’s so intent on finding.
As I sat on our favorite bench and wiped my brow with my handkerchief, totally out of breath, I chuckled. “Bloody hell, Arkady. I’m sorely out of shape. He’s some crafty pig, eh?”
Arkady threw his head back and laughed, his hearty chuckle awarding him a frown or two from some of the more contemplative folk here on Plane Limbo.
“Da, Zero, he is quick, no? Arkady Bagrov is all tired out now. But it was good to chase something again, was it not?”
I had to admit, it was a jolly good show. Though, I maintain, far kinder on the body than chasing someone aiming a loaded gun at you. “Where do you suppose he went to, old man?”
“I think he is under waterfall, lying in wait for us, Zero. We must bide our time and catch him off guard!” he answered, wiping his brow with his forearm.
“Did you see any identifying marks to prove he’s Cris P. Bacon? I certainly couldn’t read the tag on his collar. We never got close enough to the little escape artist.”
“Bah! He’s too quick for this old man. But who knows if he is the correct swine? I do not understand why we can’t just let him be?”
“It was your idea to chase him, and because it’s important to Stevie, bloke. She wants to ease his owner’s mind.”
“And she is important to you.”
I gave him an odd look. “Well, of course she is, chap. Isn’t she to you?”
Arkady tilted his head in thoughtful fashion, the shade of the cherry tree making his face appear somber—not a look typically found on his face. “But of course she is important to me, Zero. I love her. I would die for her if I were not already dead. But she is different kind of important to you, my friend. Very different. Why is it you do not tell her?”
“How can I, Arkady? How can I burden her with my feelings, knowing she doesn’t believe I can ever get back to her?”
Arkady lifted his chin. “But you do plan one day to take over body like that bad warlock, do you not?”
“I… Yes,” I replied with a firm tone. “I have every intention. However, it has to be the right situation, Arkady. I won’t do this willy-nilly.”
Arkady nodded his head and scruffed his beard with a wide hand. “Then you must tell her how you feel so she knows to wait for you.”
“Not a chance, mate. There isn’t a way in bloody hell I’d keep her from living her life while she waits around for me. She deserves happiness, Arkady. What kind of man would I be if I kept her from that? What if she finds someone who fulfills all her dreams and desires, and I’ve asked her to wait for me? No. I won’t do it.”
Arkady sighed at me, his large chest expanding and contracting. “Ah, Winterbottom. She will not. You fulfill all her dreams and desires. Only you.”
Hearing his words, hearing him say what I’ve thought out loud, was almost cleansing. “Still, I refuse to ask her to wait for me, and thus, this subject is closed until further notice.”
“And Miranda?” he asked, clearly unafraid of putting me in extreme discomfort.
“What about her?” I bristled, brushing the grass from my pant leg.
But Arkady groaned. “Ohhh, Zero. Do not play the stupid with me. You think she kill you—betray your country and you and then kill you. I want to know how she kill you—why you think she is the one who pull trigger—for what reason?”
Clenching my jaw, I muttered, “She was a traitor. That’s why she killed me.”
“No, no, no, Zero,” he reprimanded, waving a finger at me. “There is more. I want to know details, Win. I want to know how you find out she is traitor. You forget, old friend, I knew her, too.”
“And she was beautiful and smart and all things wonderful, right, Arkady?” I bit at him. Miranda had been all those things. She’d also been a traitor, and I wasn’t sure why I had to prove that to Arkady.
“Da. She was those things, but you do not answer question. I would like answer. How do you know she kill you?” He rolled his hand in a gesture suggesting I should provide an answer.
Yet, I remained stubbornly silent.
“First you tell my malutka you buy house from Miranda’s estate—which means she is dead. But then you say she kill you, Zero. So she fake death and fool you, but she fool MI6, too? How do you know this is truth?”
“Because MI6 was who informed me she was dead. I don’t know if that was some kind of cover, but that’s how I found out. Now I’m not so sure they were telling the truth, either.”
Arkady gasped a sharp inhalation of breath, his eyes wide. “You think MI6 help Miranda to fake her death?”
Folding my hands in front of me, feeling more the fool than ever, I nodded. “I do. I think… Bah.” I shook my head, as confused as always about Miranda. “I don’t know, Arkady. Let’s just say I have my suspicions, and the fact that I didn’t see it coming rocks me to my core. What kind of spy am I if I can’t even figure out my own girlfriend faked her death?
“This house was where we’d planned to spend the rest of our lives together—we were going to leave this spy business altogether and retire. Right here in Ebenezer Falls. As I said, when I brought Inga to see the house, I already knew Miranda was
dead, and I didn’t care if Inga knew where I lived by then. I was caught up in my grief, Arkady. In fact, I welcomed anyone who wished to pay me a visit because I’d given up on any sort of joy at that point.”
“So tell me why you think she is one who killed you, Zero. You see her do this dastardly act? What happened the night you die? Why will you not answer the question?”
There was a rustle in the kitchen area—and then I saw Stevie, a million different emotions racing over her face. Anger, sadness, shock.
Her next words would always remain the most painful we’ve ever shared.
She swallowed hard before she spoke, a look of sheer pain on her face, but she kept her composure. “Ahem. You guys want to stop there so you can have your privacy? Or do you think you might want to include me in this conversation about the night you died?” Stevie asked.
Chapter 11
“Do you want Arkady Bagrov to leave you both alone?” he asked quietly, his face grim.
Sighing, I shook my head. “No, old friend. It’s time I fess up, I suppose. How much did you hear, Stephania?”
Her round eyes looked up toward the ceiling, brimming with unshed tears. She raised a finger and shook it. “Don’t take that tone with me, Win. Don’t you behave as though I’ve been eavesdropping, pal. Don’t you dare! I came down to grab some water because I can’t sleep for all my worrying over Inga and Hardy. I didn’t mean to hear your private conversation. A conversation you should have had with me, too, Win. Me.”
“I will leave you—”
“Stay!” we both ordered Arkady.
He complied by sitting back down on the bench and letting his chin hang to his chest. “I want on record, I ask to leave you in privacy.”
“Noted, bloke, but you’re as much my friend as Stephania.”
Arkady made a face when I said the word friend in reference to Stevie, but he nodded and reluctantly stayed put.
Ain't Love a Witch? (Witchless in Seattle Mysteries Book 6) Page 11