rather unnecessarily uncooperative even to myself.
“Looks like an Interceptor,” he decided, unperturbed.
“Good guess,” I conceded.
“Mind if I look?”
I don’t know why he bothered asking; he was already across the garage and peeling back the covers before I could utter, “Knock yourself out.”
Green hopped down from the back of the van. “We’ll be here all bloody day now,” she remarked, nevertheless casting an appraising eye over the Jensen’s scruffy gray flank as she swept past. Quite rightly, she was unimpressed.
I followed her to the threshold, where she gazed out beyond the house to the barn midway across the field. “Nice place you’ve got,” she noted. “What’s in the barn?”
“Flatbed trailer, workbench, assorted lumps of wood, a fiberglass speedboat without an engine,” I informed her. “Tours are free if you want one.” Maybe not Belgrade. Maybe somewhere warm, like Las Palmas or Santo Domingo.
She stared a moment longer, then shook her head. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a pack of Juicy Fruit. “If he’s off the clock, so am I.”
Fairey had found the bonnet unlatched and was staring aghast at the jumble of disconnected wiring within. “Oh, bloody hell,” he said.
Green and I made a show of checking our watches. Clearly, we both wished I were alone.
“If you do happen to think of anything that might help us—”
“I’ll be sure you’re the first to know.” I shook Fairey’s hand as I walked him out of the garage; his grip was decidedly limp and more than a little clammy.
He nodded. “And get that engine fixed.”
I gave him a weary salute as he and Green walked back to their car. Waited until Fairey had one leg inside before calling after him. “Actually, there is one thing,” I said.
Green slumped into her seat and slammed the door behind her. Fairey, after a brief hesitation, withdrew his leg and strolled back into my personal space, leaning in close, offering his confidence. “Sure,” he replied. “What is it?”
“Save me a walk and shut the gate on your way out, would you?” I gave him my brightest smile. “Helps keep the undesirables out.”
Fairey laughed. “No worries, bud,” he said, and returned to his muddy Mondeo.
Under the fourth blanket, Kerry was none the wiser.
CHAPTER
NINE
She awoke to the creak of lush green pines swaying gently against a beautiful, clear blue sky. She lay on her back in the grass, surrounded by bluebells and lingering frost, eyelids fluttering against the morning sun, wet hair splayed out like the shadow of a halo. She looked almost serene as she took in the ice water dripping from the trees, the soft cooing of wood pigeons. She watched her breath rising into the crisp, cold air with a dreamy fascination. And when her eyes settled on me, standing patiently over her with a welcoming smile, the recognition seemed anything but startling. She simply smiled back and took a long, luxurious stretch, looking for all the world like the contented lover she might once have been, woken from a sensual dream to the thrill of a blossoming romance, her loneliness, for now at least, behind her.
“Where are we?” she murmured, shivering a little. She rubbed her bare knees together and tucked her hands into the opposite sleeves of her coat.
I flicked the dregs of tea from my cup and screwed it back onto the thermos, tossed it into the van and locked the door.
Kerry’s expression grew quizzical and she craned her neck to peer off into the depths of the wood. “Did you kill me?” she asked.
“No,” I replied.
“I don’t understand. Where are we?”
“We’re in the forest, in a place called Emily’s Wood.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Why is it called that?”
“I don’t know.” Never occurred to me to find out.
She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, lips poised for further questioning, but something had already distracted her; a
“Looks like an Interceptor,” he decided, unperturbed.
“Good guess,” I conceded.
“Mind if I look?”
I don’t know why he bothered asking; he was already across the garage and peeling back the covers before I could utter, “Knock yourself out.”
Green hopped down from the back of the van. “We’ll be here all bloody day now,” she remarked, nevertheless casting an appraising eye over the Jensen’s scruffy gray flank as she swept past. Quite rightly, she was unimpressed.
I followed her to the threshold, where she gazed out beyond the house to the barn midway across the field. “Nice place you’ve got,” she noted. “What’s in the barn?”
“Flatbed trailer, workbench, assorted lumps of wood, a fiberglass speedboat without an engine,” I informed her. “Tours are free if you want one.” Maybe not Belgrade. Maybe somewhere warm, like Las Palmas or Santo Domingo.
She stared a moment longer, then shook her head. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a pack of Juicy Fruit. “If he’s off the clock, so am I.”
Fairey had found the bonnet unlatched and was staring aghast at the jumble of disconnected wiring within. “Oh, bloody hell,” he said.
Green and I made a show of checking our watches. Clearly, we both wished I were alone.
“If you do happen to think of anything that might help us—”
“I’ll be sure you’re the first to know.” I shook Fairey’s hand as I walked him out of the garage; his grip was decidedly limp and more than a little clammy.
He nodded. “And get that engine fixed.”
I gave him a weary salute as he and Green walked back to their car. Waited until Fairey had one leg inside before calling after him. “Actually, there is one thing,” I said.
Green slumped into her seat and slammed the door behind her. Fairey, after a brief hesitation, withdrew his leg and strolled back into my personal space, leaning in close, offering his confidence. “Sure,” he replied. “What is it?”
“Save me a walk and shut the gate on your way out, would you?” I gave him my brightest smile. “Helps keep the undesirables out.”
Fairey laughed. “No worries, bud,” he said, and returned to his muddy Mondeo.
Under the fourth blanket, Kerry was none the wiser.
CHAPTER
NINE
She awoke to the creak of lush green pines swaying gently against a beautiful, clear blue sky. She lay on her back in the grass, surrounded by bluebells and lingering frost, eyelids fluttering against the morning sun, wet hair splayed out like the shadow of a halo. She looked almost serene as she took in the ice water dripping from the trees, the soft cooing of wood pigeons. She watched her breath rising into the crisp, cold air with a dreamy fascination. And when her eyes settled on me, standing patiently over her with a welcoming smile, the recognition seemed anything but startling. She simply smiled back and took a long, luxurious stretch, looking for all the world like the contented lover she might once have been, woken from a sensual dream to the thrill of a blossoming romance, her loneliness, for now at least, behind her.
“Where are we?” she murmured, shivering a little. She rubbed her bare knees together and tucked her hands into the opposite sleeves of her coat.
I flicked the dregs of tea from my cup and screwed it back onto the thermos, tossed it into the van and locked the door.
Kerry’s expression grew quizzical and she craned her neck to peer off into the depths of the wood. “Did you kill me?” she asked.
“No,” I replied.
“I don’t understand. Where are we?”
“We’re in the forest, in a place called Emily’s Wood.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Why is it called that?”
“I don’t know.” Never occurred to me to find out.
She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, lips poised for further questioning, but something had already distracted her; a
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