Part 25 (2/2)
”But you took it, didn't you?”
And Kyra might've died because you're a spineless p.r.i.c.k. Because I trusted you. An icy rage took hold of him. This much he could do for her. Would do. He'd make things right, even if she never knew. An icy rage took hold of him. This much he could do for her. Would do. He'd make things right, even if she never knew.
Monroe hunched his shoulders defensively. ”Yeah. I needed the cash. It's getting harder to make a living like this, and security online gets better every day.”
”Lucky, you don't have to worry about that anymore.” The numbness threatened again, was.h.i.+ng in like fog on a rocky beach. It eclipsed the cold fury. Maybe on some level, it should have bothered him to snip this last loose end. He'd felt something for this guy once. Now he didn't seem to feel anything at all, as if he were in a boat was.h.i.+ng farther and farther from sh.o.r.e.
His expression became bewildered. ”What, online security?”
”No.” Reyes smiled. ”Living.” He picked up a pillow from the mattress, covered the barrel of the HK, and shot Monroe in the head.
In the future, he'd have to find another hacker, someone else to access cla.s.sified information. Maybe Apex could step up. Reyes would make sure there were no personal connections, going forward. And he wouldn't turn to that person when he was in trouble. At least he'd learned a valuable lesson over the past months: you could only ever rely on yourself. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
He wiped the gun and left it on Monroe's body. It was never smart to carry a murder weapon with you. Reyes retraced his steps through the squat.
”There's a bunch of good stuff upstairs,” he said to the homeless in Hungarian.
Soon Monroe's stuff would be stolen, including IDs. If he knew anything about such places, all the evidence would be compromised long before the cops were alerted.
By some miracle, the bike was still where he'd left it. He fired it up and spun away from the last connection to the mess he'd made. There was nothing left to do.
He stopped at a petrol station just before returning the bike. Ga.s.sing up didn't cost much; the tank was small. Afterward, he went into the restroom and washed his hands, scrubbing diligently. Prolonged immersion with simple soap and water would defeat a gunshot residue test. He knew these things because he was careful and precise. He knew what he needed to do to survive. Now he just had to get back to it.
It was over. Everything. Over. He'd never see her again. Never go looking. Because that was what she wanted, and the best thing he could do for her was leave. He'd always known it would end that way, no matter how sweet it seemed. Reyes wouldn't grieve for something that had never belonged to him.
It was time to get back to work, back to his life. Time to do what he did best. Time to forget there had ever been a woman who held him because she wanted to.
He had nothing but but time, spread out before him like a wasteland. time, spread out before him like a wasteland.
CHAPTER 30.
It had been a week since they left Las Vegas.
And she'd crashed hard once she got them to safety. Mia told her they'd spent a whole day hiding in a hotel off the strip, but she couldn't remember it. Since then, Mia had been moody and uncommunicative, totally unlike herself. Focusing on her friend's problems distracted Kyra from thinking about her own, but she didn't want to push. After leaving the rental house, she'd found Mia s.h.i.+vering outside despite the relative warmness of the air.
Kyra had taken her hand, despite the pain, and led her to the Marquis. She didn't want to stick around in case one of the neighbors called the police. The other woman roused only long enough to request they pick up her things, and then she closed her eyes. Kyra had no choice but to hang tough, despite the pain spiking through her brain. She'd overloaded her circuits, and there was no help for it but medication and rest.
That set the tone for the next several days. They drove in near silence, both nursing private grief.
In Colorado, she had the Marquis painted white on the off chance anyone was still looking for her. The switched plates should do some good as well, as long as she drove within the speed limits and didn't attract police attention. Mia huddled against the door, head against the window. Kyra had never seen her like this: so small and scared.
Just what the h.e.l.l had happened? But any attempt to find out met with a wall of silence. Her friend wasn't ready to talk, and Kyra had to respect that.
A rest stop where they used the bathroom had a small visitor's center, and Kyra picked up a brochure for a gorgeous hotel called Chateau on the Lake. It promised soothing tranquility set amid pastoral beauty, lush gardens, in-house spa, ma.s.sage therapy, tennis courts-pure luxury. Somewhere to rest sounded wonderful.
As they walked back to the Marquis, she asked, ”What do you think?” and pa.s.sed the flyer to her friend.
Mia read it over as she climbed into the pa.s.senger seat. ”I could use it.”
They didn't need a vacation as much as a place to lick their wounds. While Kyra didn't know exactly what had happened between Mia and Foster, she recognized the wreckage in her eyes. G.o.d, she felt more or less the same, as if she'd been hit by a car, the scars too deep for anyone else to see.
She drove. The Marquis responded like a familiar friend, comfortable beneath her hands. Kyra focused on breathing, and tried to tell herself she didn't hurt. She'd give anything if that wasn't true of Mia.
By the end of the seventh day, they reached Branson, Missouri. Mia used her cell to call the hotel on the flyer to find out if they had a room. They did, and she reserved it.
Chateau on the Lake lay some four miles from the thea ters and eight miles from downtown, but Kyra didn't imagine they'd want to explore the homey attractions. At least she didn't. She intended to hole up, order room service, and try to forget.
The place was every bit as beautiful as the pictures claimed. Nestled amid trees and gardens, the yellow building gleamed in the last rays of the sun, gilding it. She hoped that meant they'd find some respite there. While Mia got her stuff, Kyra pulled the money case out of the floor of the car and tucked it into her duffel bag.
She didn't think Reyes would come looking for her, but she didn't mean to leave the money unattended until then. Her father had died, and she'd suffered for it, so she didn't mean to let anyone take it.
Inside, it was positively lavish. Mia took care of check-in because a place like this didn't work on a cash-only basis. She'd dip into her stash to cover her part of the stay. A bell-man took their luggage-paltry as it was-up to their rooms, and Kyra tipped him.
The room was every bit as nice as the lobby led her to believe: two full-sized beds with adjustable mattresses, rich mahogany furnis.h.i.+ngs, echoed in the window treatment. The walls were painted rich ochre, lending a warm air that was echoed in the colorful swirls of the bedspreads. Sateen-covered cus.h.i.+ons sat at artful angles on the bed, and there were mints on the pillows.
Kyra tossed her bag beside the bed closest to the door. If someone came in on them, she was best suited to dealing with the problem. Mia wasn't used to this s.h.i.+t; for all their friends.h.i.+p, they'd lived very different lives, and she was sorry she'd whispered even a hint of her intentions. It had been a rare phone conversation where, in a moment of weakness, she felt so totally alone that she just wanted someone to know where she was and what she was up against. She hadn't reckoned on Mia's sweet, fierce loyalty.
”Here's the deal,” she said, dropping onto the bed. ”Tonight we take hot baths. Order room service, including ice cream, and we get something girlie on pay-per-view. I'm not going to ask you any questions. But tomorrow we talk.”
Mia raised her brows. ”I will if you will.”
Did she think I didn't want to? Kyra considered. Kyra considered. Possible. Possible. She didn't know what kind of cues she'd been giving. It had been everything she could do to go through the motions without a full collapse. She didn't know what kind of cues she'd been giving. It had been everything she could do to go through the motions without a full collapse.
”I'm just . . . raw,” she answered at last. ”But I want to talk to you about it. You're all I have left.”
Mia's dark eyes glinted. ”You, too. I don't see my mom anymore, you know.”
”I'm sorry.” She hugged Mia, knowing it wouldn't be bad or unpleasant.
Her friend was good with numbers, which was a particularly low-key talent. Mia wouldn't need to tally any figures tonight anyway. Thereafter, they followed through with her plan-with one amendment. They used the spa before wading into personal matters, and it turned into a whole day of steaming, ma.s.sage, yoga, hair, manicures, and pedicures, though Kyra requested the same person handle all of her treatments. They considered it a harmless eccentricity and granted the request. By the time they got back to the room, she almost didn't hurt anymore. Maybe she could talk with equanimity now.
TV off, they sat on the beds cross-legged, facing each other. Mia smiled, but it was tinged with melancholy. ”It's been a long time since we did this.”
”Yeah.” Her throat clogged, as if physical comfort cleared the way for emotional baggage to break open, like luggage tossed too hard on a conveyer at the airport.
”So this Serrano had something to do with your dad dying . . . and then he sent someone after you. . . . What happened between you two? Though I wasn't in the room very long, I saw how he looked at you.”
Shock went through her. ”You didn't see anything. You were scared to death.”
”That doesn't make me blind or stupid,” Mia snapped. ”I thought we were opening up? Stop stalling. I don't show you mine, if you don't show me yours.”
She clenched her teeth and spoke through them. ”We had . . . chemistry. I thought I might be falling for him until I found out he was hired to kill me.”
”No s.h.i.+t,” Mia said. ”You know, some of us take our thrills in smaller doses. I just date married guys for instance.”
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