“Is it Lucy?” She’d seen the way his eyes always followed the petite brunette. They’d had dinner at Trio a few days before, and Michael had been on his best behavior. He was often gruff, but he’d been quiet and kind to Lucy.
He frowned her way. “I am not giving you grist for the gossip mill. I know how small towns run.”
“I am not a gossip. Mostly,” she amended. “If you need to talk and you don’t want anyone to know, I am a locked vault.”
She’d been the keeper of many a secret.
“I kind of believe you. You’re an odd duck, Nell Flanders.”
“Hah, and there’s another one of Henry’s crimes. He could have picked any name. Literally any name in the vast sea of names and he picks one that makes me sound like I’m eight hundred years old. I’m not joking. I tell people online my name is Nell Flanders and they expect to meet their grandma.” She’d thought about it a lot. She’d started taking an anger inventory, and that one had shown up after the guns in the shop but before lying about how he knew where to plant a bomb in a fictional building so it exploded properly. “He could have picked something noble sounding. Like Windsor.”
“Then I would think you were an old British person,” Michael shot back.
“How about something pretty like DuVernay? He could have been Henry DuVernay.”
Michael’s head shook. “Old French person. Let’s face facts—the last name is not the only problem here. Nell is an old-lady name.”
“Rude. It’s a family name, according to my mother.” Of course her mother had told her the family member she’d been named after had been a Fae princess, so there was that. “It’s only old because people stopped using it. One day all old ladies will be named Britney or Ashley. I’m only saying, he could have picked a better name. And you can’t hole yourself up on the mountain forever.”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Because at some point in time you’re going to get used to regular showers again.” She’d noticed he’d taken one every day since he’d gotten here, and he seemed to luxuriate in them. She hadn’t even complained about his water usage.
“Yeah, I do not miss my facilities. Or rather lack of facilities.” He was quiet for a moment. “I think it’s better I stay up on the mountain. There’s a lot of temptation in town. Well, only one, really, and she’s too young for me.”
Lucy worked at Trio, but Nell had known her for years. Her family lived outside of town, and there had always been trouble around her father. The Carsons were a large family, and Nell had taken food and clothes to them more than once. Lucy had gotten out, but she still worried about her siblings. “She’s an adult. She’s twenty-six years old. She’s not exactly a baby. How old are you?”
“Thirty-five.”
“That’s not bad at all. Henry’s ten years older than me.” She’d been so young and naïve when she’d met him. She’d thought she could change him. Had it all been an act or had she actually transformed the man?
“I’m not talking about numerical age. I’m talking about experience.”
That had her spine straightening. “You want a more experienced woman? That seems rude. You know a woman is more than the sum of her experience in bed.”
“Hey, don’t protest me,” Michael complained. “I wasn’t talking about sexual experience. I was talking about getting the shit kicked out of you and being damaged. Lucy is sweet. She doesn’t deserve to have to deal with a moody bastard who isn’t sure he can ever trust a woman again. I don’t know what I can offer her.”
“It’s not the Dark Ages,” Nell pointed out. “Women don’t tend to go into a marriage with the thought that all they’ll bring into the relationship is childbirth and housekeeping. Maybe she can offer you something. Like indoor plumbing.”
Michael ignored her completely. “Then there’s the kid who’s always around her. The walking venereal disease. He actually came out to my place and tried to warn me off her. Said she’s his. You want to protest someone, protest that asshole. Acted like he owned her.”
“Are you talking about Tyler Davis?” He was from Creede. He’d grown up with Lucy and River, and he often could be found around the women. He worked as an EMT and a nature guide with River’s company.
“Yeah. He marched right up to my place and told me to stay away. Like I was going to do something. I just think she’s nice.” He settled back.
That was such a lie, but she wasn’t going to call him on it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t taken to lying to herself.
She was worried about Henry, and not merely that he was going to get the itch to work with the CIA again.
She was worried that he might die and she would never know, that someone in the shadowy agency would decide she didn’t need to know what happened to her husband. She would wonder where he was for the rest of her life.
“Nell? Are you all right?”
Michael’s question brought her out of her dark thoughts.
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
He sighed. “Even I know fine doesn’t mean fine. He’ll call. He’s probably having dinner or something. He’ll call before he goes to bed. It’s going to be okay.”
She sat back and prayed that he was right.
* * * *
Meanwhile in Mexico
The moonlight illuminated the field of bodies he’d left behind.
He was so not okay.
His wife would want to know how the mission went, and he would have to tell her that he’d fucked up the plan where he simply told the actor about his friend and then stepped away.
Josh Hunt hadn’t taken the bait. He’d gone through with the mission, and it had all gone to hell.
He’d taken care of it, and everyone who should have lived had, and most of the bad people died, but the agency definitely knew he
