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Chapter Twenty-Eight. Kat headed to the kitchen for ice for Jake’s knee

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Kat headed to the kitchen for ice for Jake’s knee. A chill ran through her, and she glanced down again at her near-naked body. She really wanted to shower and put on some warm clothes, but Jake came first.

As she entered the bedroom with the bag of ice, she was not surprised to find Jake sprawled on her back in the middle of the bed, sound asleep. She was still clad in the coveralls, boots on her feet. Kat removed the boots, smiling a little at the myriad of things that had been jammed into them to make them fit better.

She unzipped the coveralls and helped Jake out of them as gently as she could, but Jake stirred and groaned.

"Shh. Go back to sleep," Kat whispered. She reached down to smooth a strand of errant blond hair on the sleeping woman’s forehead, her fingertips lingering to caress Jake’s cheek.

Jake sighed, a contented mewling sound, and drifted back off without ever opening her eyes.

Kat put the ice bag on Jake’s knee and covered her with the fleece blanket, tucking her in like a pampered child.

Kat got a lot accomplished in the hour Jake napped. She took a long, hot shower and put on clean jeans and a sweatshirt. It helped to refresh her and reduce some of the fatigue she was fighting.

Then she tended to Frank, heating up a bowl of soup for him and letting him eat, stretch, and relieve himself outside the main entrance. All of it was done under her careful scrutiny, her Glock held casually in one hand as though it were a natural extension of her arm. Although his bladder had been full an hour earlier, it took Frank a moment to get going under Hunter’s unwavering stare.

Otter stirred only once during the proceedings. He groaned but didn’t awaken.

Once that chore was finished, Kat spent a few minutes on her computer looking at radar and satellite pictures of the weather front that was dumping snow on the Upper Peninsula. The area was expected to get another eight inches or more over the next thirty-six hours, and the winds were expected to increase. It would create whiteout conditions and significant drifting. That should make it impossible for anyone else to follow Frank and Otter’s snowmobile tracks to the bunker.

Kat realized she was absolutely starving. She had burned up a lot of energy during the last several hours, and her body was craving compensation. She headed for the kitchen. From what she’d seen of Jake’s appetite so far, she knew she should probably make enough for an army.

Kat took out the venison tenderloins she’d set in the fridge and seared them in a cast-iron skillet before setting them in the oven to finish cooking. She surveyed the mess in the pantry to see what had survived the battle with Otter.

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, nodding 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."

 


Дата добавления: 2015-10-30; просмотров: 113 | Нарушение авторских прав


Читайте в этой же книге: Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six |
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Chapter Twenty-Seven| Chapter Twenty-Nine

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