“Your husband would kill me.”
“Probably, but I’d have a fabulous time.”
He tried to imagine his fifty-something assistant slinking along the banks of a Russian river, waiting to make a drop.
Brenda sighed. “I know, I know. I don’t speak any languages, I’m wildly out of shape, but hey, a girl can dream, right?”
“Absolutely. And comfort yourself with the thought that I’d be lost without you.”
“I know.” She chuckled. “See you in the morning, boss.”
“We’ll be here.”
He pushed the “end” button and terminated the call, then went back upstairs so he could return to Ashley’s room and collect the tray.
He found the larger guest room empty and the sound of running water and laughter coming from the bathroom. Jeff quickly picked up empty dishes and set them on the tray. He was nearly out the door when Ashley appeared.
“I thought I heard you return,” she said, leaning against the wall by the bathroom. “Thanks for making dinner. I’m going to give Maggie a bath, then come down with her while she has her dessert. We’ll read for a bit and both be in bed by eight.”
Weariness darkened her eyes and pulled at the corners of her mouth. She was attractive, in a slender, delicate sort of way.
“You look like you could use a good night’s sleep,” he said.
She studied him. “I can’t decide if I should ask you again why you’re bothering, or simply be grateful.”
“How about just thinking about getting well?”
She tilted her head slightly. “My daughter thinks you’re a very nice man.”
“Your daughter is trusting.” Too trusting.
“She hasn’t had a chance to learn otherwise.”
She’d made a statement but he wondered if it was also a warning. As inDon’t teach her differently. Don’t give her a reason not to trust.
Jeff wanted to reassure her that he had no intention of destroying Maggie’s illusions about the world. Time would take care of that, and far too quickly for his taste. Oddly, he liked knowing that somewhere a four-year-old little girl laughed with glee because there were Pop-Tarts and kittens.
“Who are you, Jeff Ritter?”
No one you want to know.But he didn’t say that aloud because it would frighten her. “A friend.”
“I hope so. Good night.”
She turned back to the bathroom. He left her bedroom and walked down to the kitchen where he loaded the dirty dishes into the dishwasher then thought about fixing dinner for himself. There were sandwich ingredients and frozen dinners, soup, chili and a couple of apples.
But instead of preparing a meal, he walked into the living room and stared out into the night. The light rain had stopped although clouds still covered the sky. Jeff looked into the darkness, trying to ignore the sense of impending doom. He felt the familiar clenching of his gut and knew that trouble lay ahead. As he wasn’t on a mission, he didn’t know what form the trouble would take. Obviously it had something to do with the woman. With Ashley.
Even from this distance, he could sense her in the house. Her soft scent drifted through the air, teasing him, making him wonder how it would feel to be like other men.
* * *
His footsteps crunched on the path that led through the center of the village. It was night, yet he could see everything clearly. Probably because of the fire.
The flames were everywhere, licking at the edges of the shabby structures, chasing after the unwary residents, occasionally catching someone off guard and consuming them in a heartbeat.
The fire was alive, fueled by dry timbers and a chemical dreamed up in a lab thousands of miles away. Jeff was familiar with the smell, the heat and the destruction. He hated the fire. It showed no mercy. At times he would swear he heard it laughing as it destroyed.
It was only after he’d gone into the center square of the village that he became aware of the sounds. Thecrackof timbers breaking as they were consumed, the gunshot sound of glass exploding, the screams of the villagers. The soft crying of a lost child.
