#2
Devi looked around the small town and decided this was absolutely the best kidnapping ever. Five stars. Fully recommend.
“Get yourself a drink.”
Lacey chuckled as she closed the trunk of the SUV. Boot. Here it was called a boot, and it was full of feed and supplies they picked up at the store that also sold groceries. The horses had their feed, and she had scones and Welsh currant cakes and a lot of vegan stuff, but she was liking it. Lacey was teaching her some great recipes.
“I’ve got some things I need to do, but it shouldn’t be long. Hopefully this rain will stop soon.”
Did it ever really stop? It rained a lot here, but she thought she might not mind if she could cuddle with someone.
With Zach.
“No problem.”
She was getting used to the spy stuff. Zach seemed to be more open and would let her sit in on debriefs and talked freely around her. But Lacey was involved in things other than Zach’s mission. Probably saving cats and dogs and bunnies from testing of some kind. Or getting more hillycoos out of terrible situations.
Lacey looked her over and frowned.
“Don’t get in trouble.”
Devi gave the other woman her best what me, trouble? expression. “Will do.”
“I’m serious. You have your mobile, right?”
She had the burner Zach gave her before she left with Lacey. It was connected only to him and Lacey, he explained, and only to be used in emergencies. He then told her that an emergency did not include seeing a cute outfit and calling Brianna or Daisy to gush about it.
She was going to be honest. She liked Wales, but in this part of the country there was a lot of practical clothing.
“Got it,”
Devi replied, eager to walk around and see more of this teeny-tiny town. It looked a little magical. It looked like a place where she could get some inspiration. She had her tablet in her backpack, and sitting in a pub drawing out some designs sounded like a fabulous way to spend an afternoon.
“Go do spy stuff.”
Lacey frowned.
“You know we don’t call it that, right? Certainly not in public.”
Devi shrugged.
“Go do whatever you call it. I’m going to walk around a bit and then I’ll settle in.”
Lacey seemed to think about that for a moment.
“Maybe I should…”
Nope. This was the first time she’d been alone in weeks, and she was taking it. Devi simply walked away. She heard Lacey curse, but she didn’t follow.
She probably wouldn’t wander for long since it was raining, but it was nice to be here, to pretend like she was a tourist.
Was she a tourist? Sometimes she felt like one. Like she was wandering through life looking for that place where she could belong. For a moment she’d thought she found it with Zach. She had definitely realized that where she belonged wasn’t a place. It was a mindset. It was how she felt, not where she was.
Why did her “place”
in the world have to come with jail time or losing him long before she was ready to?
She wandered for a while, looking into some of the shops and spending time in the tiny bookstore. She used some of the money Zach gave her to buy a book about Welsh legends and then made her way to the pub to wait for Lacey.
She was reading about the Welsh god of the dead when a man sat down beside her. She glanced up. He was older and American, from his accent. He ordered a beer. Not a pint. Definitely tourist.
“Catching up on local folklore?”
the man asked.
She should have gotten a table, but no, she’d taken a place at the bar because it made her feel more like a local. If it had been some woman asking her questions, she likely would start up a conversation and have fun with it. Something about this man set off her internal siren. He was maybe six foot two with a lean build and graying hair, but it was his eyes that bothered her. They were a dark, flat brown with nothing animated about them.
They were the eyes of a predator, and suddenly she felt like prey.
“Yeah. I like to study the places I go and visit.”
She gave him a friendly smile. It wasn’t like she’d never dealt with predatory men before. The key was to make them feel like you didn’t recognize them and then dash as soon as possible. Lacey should be here soon, so he wouldn’t have a ton of time to hit on her. She got the feeling Lacey would know how to shut a dude down.
Devi did, too, but she was supposed to wait here, and she didn’t think this guy would take her normal fuck-off speech with aplomb. She was supposed to not make scenes.
Also, he was way not in her age group. She pegged him somewhere in his sixties, though he could be younger. He hadn’t taken great care of himself. He looked haggard but in a hungry, burn-the-world-around-him way.
“Yeah, I studied a bit when I was younger. I knew a woman. So smart. She was into chemistry at the time, but she also loved folklore.”
He sounded smart, his voice somewhat melodic, but there was a menacing undertone. Like he knew something she didn’t.
“So I remember that the Welsh god of the dead was named Arawn. He had a bunch of hellhounds, and you had to be invited into his version of hell.”
“His version of hell was most people’s version of heaven,”
she replied and looked to the door. Damn. She wanted to leave. It was the strangest feeling.
“Well, I suppose everyone has their own take on things. It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?”
He took the beer from the bartender, who then stepped back and moved to the customer at the end of the bar.
“What some would call heaven others think of as hell.”
She glanced at the clock. Only a few minutes more and she could go home.
She was not thinking of that rundown farm as home.
She guessed it was all about perspective.
“I suppose so.”
“I’ve always found it interesting how travel changes your perspective. Like what most Americans consider a complete hellhole is how a lot of the world lives,” he said.
Oh, he was a philosopher asshole.
“I assure you there are people in America who know what a hellhole is and who try to help. And plenty who don’t. Like everywhere in the world. I know a lot of people who try to make the world a better place.”
“Do you?”
Okay, so she was trying to be a better spy.
“Sure. Like the people who feed the homeless, and I’ve got a friend who is studying to be a therapist who specializes in helping children recover from trauma.”
Daisy was starting school soon, and Devi thought this was going to be the job her friend stuck with for the rest of her life. Her calling.
“I’ve always thought therapy was a racket,”
he replied with what she was sure he thought of as an inviting smile.
“You know there are things that happen to us that we should shove down and things we should use as fuel. That’s what trauma truly is. It’s fuel for change.”
Okay, creepy and completely wrong, but she didn’t care enough to argue.
“An interesting take. I need to find the loo.”
“You fit in well,”
he said with another smile.
“Calling it a loo instead of a bathroom. When you get back you can tell me where you come from. I hear a little of a Texas twang in there.”
Creepier still. She nodded and slid off the barstool. She wouldn’t be coming back. She was going to find herself another way out.
“You have a good ear.”
She left her poor pint behind. She’d wanted that pint. She moved toward the back of the pub where the toilets were located according to the hand-painted signs. It was good to know that she could attract creepers even here in rural Wales.
Devi pulled out her phone and glanced down at it. Lacey was going to be a few minutes late, according to her text.
“Hey, lady,”
a masculine voice said. He had an English accent. He was dressed in a soccer—football—jersey that proclaimed him to be a fan of Glossop North End. Whatever that was. He looked to be close to her age, and his smile actually did seem friendly. He was probably a big old nerd.
“Uhm, not sure how to tell you this but you shouldn’t drink that beer.”
Fuck. They were in the hall, out of view of the bar.
“Why? I mean I can guess. Did he slip something in?”
The man nodded. He had curly, dark hair and wore jeans and sneakers.
“Yeah. I mean I think he might have. I saw his hand move over the top of the mug. He’s bothering you, right?”
“He is trying to pick me up, and now I know he’s a criminal who was going to take advantage of me. Should I call the pol…”
She couldn’t. There would be far too many questions and paperwork, and Zach would likely freak out, and Lacey wouldn’t like the cops looking at them when she was so close to her mission starting.
“Uhm, maybe I should sneak out. I thank you… I didn’t catch your name.”
He held out a hand.
“Tim. I’m down here visiting my cousin. He didn’t see it. Told me I shouldn’t get involved, but I couldn’t let you walk into that trap.”
She shook his hand.
“Well, I wasn’t going back. I was going to slip outside.”
Tim let her hand go.
“Good for you. Hey, you know what I’ll do? I’ll tell him I saw someone leaving out the back entrance. Then he’ll likely find another target.”
She didn’t like the sound of that.
“Maybe I should try to deal with him.”
Tim waved that thought off.
“Don’t bother. There aren’t any other targets. All the young women leave for bigger cities. It’s probably why he pounced on you. I’ll watch him and maybe have a talk with the local constable about what I saw. He can be pretty intimidating, and he doesn’t particularly like strangers. Stay inside the loo until I give you the all clear. Or just in this hallway. I’ll make sure he goes out the front.”
At least there were some nice people left in the world.
“Thanks, Tim.”
He started to pass her but stumbled slightly and bumped into her.
“Sorry. Bit of a klutz.”
“No problem,”
she replied as she moved further toward the loos in the back.
There were all kinds of pictures lining the narrow hallway.
She glanced at them.
They went all the way back to World War II.
Pictures of men and women in uniform hoisting a pint.
Some had careful notations on the bottom of the frames.
Lieutenant Miles Bron and company.
Catrin and Bethan Davies welcome their soldiers home.
They gradually moved to later years, and Devi was fascinated with the clothes they wore, the way they held themselves.
What history was here in this tiny pub? She could look at the pictures forever.
She kind of wanted to sketch a few of them because there was a ton of inspiration here.
She loved the lines of the WWII military uniforms and the elegant hairdos.
But she was equally inspired by the bohemian vibes from the sixties. There was something cool and over the top about the eighties.
She could use those lines.
Pair them with soft colors and fabrics from the sixties and the elegant makeup from the forties.
A whole line sprang into her head.
Day wear that flowed into evening looks.
Casual wear that fit the vibes of formal wear.
She wanted to sketch and get the ideas down, but she couldn’t exactly go back out to the bar until the coast was clear.
If she had her own phone she could have taken some pictures, but she understood why Zach had brought this seemingly smart phone down to basic functions.
It wasn’t sending out a signal that let everyone know exactly where it was.
So she simply moved down the hall, studying the pictures that caught her eye.
The last few years were filled with photographs of celebrating footballers and graduates with their proud parents.
There was one of the same group from long ago.
They’d been young soldiers at the beginning of the hall, and now they were old and gray and still hoisting a pint in their uniforms.
It brought tears to her eyes.
So much life in those photos.
Whole love stories seemed to play out.
Children grew up as she made her way down the hall.
She was going to tell her Uncle Sean that they needed a wall like this at Top.
It was where a good portion of Dallas celebrated, but more importantly it was where her whole family came together.
Almost every graduation and new job were celebrated.
Where new babies were welcomed and reunions were had.
Just a couple of months back they’d had a big celebration for her dad and Uncle Case’s birthday.
Uncle Case and Aunt Mia had come with her cousin Heath.
She had sat with her besties and felt like she was at home.
A sniffle came from her.
She was getting emotional, but it was okay.
She’d felt numb for a long time, and emotion was part of who she was, what she did.
She caught sight of a wedding photo. It looked to be from the early 2000s if the fashions were on trend.
Dr. Arthur Beddoe and wife, Cecelia.
Arthur. She kind of loved Arthur. He was smart and funny and gave excellent advice. It was hard to believe he’d been a soldier at one point.
He wasn’t wearing his uniform. He was in a morning suit, smiling gamely as he held his wife’s hand in one and a pint in the other.
He was younger. Way younger. And honestly, he didn’t look like himself. The coloring was right but the jaw was different, and his shoulders were less broad.
Something about the photo was wrong.
“Hey, he’s gone. But I got a bad feeling about that one.”
Tim was back, a worried expression on his face.
“I think he was going off to look for you.”
The thought sent a chill down her spine, and all the questions about Arthur fled in favor of worrying if she’d attracted a serial killer. That wasn’t supposed to happen to her. That happened to Daisy. She was the girl who didn’t get into ride shares without checking the license plate and that the picture on the app matched the person doing the driving. She was the perpetual designated driver. The steady one.
“I should go.”
What she should do was call Zach, but if she did she might never be allowed to leave the farm again. As much as she loved it, she enjoyed the occasional bit of leave. He should understand that.
Tim seemed disconcerted at the thought.
“Maybe you should come sit with me and my cousin. Do you have anyone who could take you home? I could follow you in my cousin’s car. I don’t like the thought of that man looking for you.”
She didn’t either, but lucky for her she had an out.
“A friend is picking me up. I won’t leave until she’s with me. You’re right. I should stay in a public place.”
She walked past Tim and toward the bar. Asshole thought he could kidnap her? Well, she wasn’t going through that again. She was through her kidnap-me era and into her girl-who-doesn’t-get-kidnapped phase. Yeah. And she needed to train because this was a dangerous world, and she hadn’t kept up her work-out routine lately. Though lifting feed bags was a great arm workout.
“There you are.”
Lacey stood at the bar, frowning, a bag over her shoulder.
“Where were you?”
If she went into the whole might-have-been-stalked thing, she would definitely never leave the farm again. Also, she handled it. Well, she and Tim handled it. She glanced back and Tim wasn’t there. Must have needed the loo. He was a nice kid, but it was time for her to go.
“Just visiting the loo. I’m ready if you are.”
Lacey stared her up and down.
“You know you don’t have to wiggle out of the loo window. If you’re ready to escape…”
She knew this one. She rolled her eyes and started for the door.
“The sea is that way. I’m not walking into the sea, Lace. If we hurry, I can be home in time to watch a bunch of celebrities I don’t know answer quiz show questions. It’s celebrity week on Impossible.”
And that meant something to her now. Strange world.
She let go of all of her worries but one as they made it to the Jeep.
How to get Zach to put his hands on her.
Did she want his hands on her? It was casual. She could stay casual.
As they started to drive away she could have sworn she caught sight of the man from earlier. Watching her.
The danger, she feared, was far from over.