Chapter 65

 

RENEE FELT AERON slump to the side and managed to stop her before she clattered from the chair to the floor. Oh no, this was all they needed. She hurried around to the front, checking Aeron’s pulse.

It was getting weaker.

She pulled a few sachets from her pocket and squeezed them into Aeron’s mouth. Athletes used the same kind of concoctions to boost their energy mid-match. It wasn’t enough. Nothing physical was enough. She tilted Aeron’s head back and massaged the points on her neck to make her body swallow.

“Good evening, Ladies.”

Renee tensed at Huber’s voice. He sounded irritated. He felt wary. She tried to discount the odd gut feeling. How could she know that, side effects or not, she wasn’t Aeron.

She turned and put on her cover. “Huber, there’s a complication.”

He stood at the top of steel circular stairs. His tall thin frame cut in fine tailoring. His gray hair respectable and styled but his face was gray with worry. “Unless Miss Riley wishes to speak to me, I have nothing to say.” His glare sent a wave of warning through her. He’d never forgiven her for luring Frei away from his sordid lifestyle. The disgust was mutual.

“Alex is resting.” She felt Aeron’s heart beat stronger and her own heart stopped ramming itself against her rib cage in panic. Out cold but the kick had helped.

“If I am dragged out of an important meeting, it’s safe to assume that I expect it to be necessary.” His eyes hardened further. He’d have her shot and dumped somewhere. He’d never risk the cover being exposed, Frei being exposed. 

“Losing poker games does tend to make one testy.” Renee steadied herself. She could pull her trigger faster than he could blink. “You might like to listen, I know that may be a first, but do try.”

Huber scowled. His eyes like blades as he strolled down the stairs. “You wish me to show you manners?”

“No, I want you to listen.” Renee switched to German. “Alex has relayed her message to me. You know who we work for.” She hoped that would call off his defensive mood. He didn’t trust her, Aeron he would listen to, but not Renee. To him, she was an agent, to him, she could be there to lure him in, bring him down.

“Interesting language skills for a teacher.” His tone cut as sharply as his eyes. He yanked back his chair and sat, his hand on his pistol, pointed at her.

“I’m a humanities professor.” She smiled a knowing smile. “Besides, you know better than to assume I’m innocent, Huber.” She took a breath, cycling through every cover she’d been until she recalled the right details. “Hartmann wasn’t a pleasant way to start out but I learned a lot.”

His eyebrows raised.

Hartmann, oh he and every other cretin would know her name.

Now, all these years later, Renee knew what peril Lilia had placed her in. Hartmann hadn’t just been a slave trader, she’d been one of the most powerful ones. Frei had risked a lot to get her out. Huber had risked more stealing from her.

“Locks has a way of ensuring loyalty. You should know this.” She ran her hand over Aeron’s shoulder. His gaze stayed on her hand as she slid it into Aeron’s pocket and pulled out the lock. “Or did you seriously think I’d work for anyone else?”

Huber knew the truth but the sight of the lock was enough. There was no way she would have it unless Frei had given it to her. The evidence was there but did he trust her enough to believe his eyes?

“Stealing from a locksmith is never a good idea,” he snapped. He primed the pistol with a click. Renee moved onto the balls of her feet ready to protect Aeron.

“Harming one that I happen to adore is an even worse one,” Renee snapped back. His mood triggered hers. She felt his anger, his anxiety licking at her like flames.

“Harm her?” His tone was flat but the energy around him screamed out in panic. Renee focused on it. She glanced at Aeron. Flickers of her in Serenity Hills rippled through her mind.

 

“People who ain’t emotionally charged can be harder to read. Some people are good at concealing it. I don’t know how or why.”

Renee watched Aeron. Those big brown eyes pleaded with her to believe her, to trust her. She couldn’t. Not after Yannick. Not after the way Aeron had hurled the bench across the canteen. Not after the way her whole body language flicked like his had. No. She placed her fingers together on the desk in front of her to hide them shaking. “I thought you were an expert.”

“No one gave me a handbook.” Aeron leapt to her feet and paced back and for. Flashes of Yannick doing the same while she lay bound and helpless rocketed through her. Her pistol was in her desk.

“You don’t need one if you will just admit that it may not be real.” That she was like him, that it was all a game. That, once again, Renee had been fooled.

“You’ve been lying to me?” Aeron’s tone rippled with hurt. It had to be false. Just a mimic.

“You. Tell. Me.”

Aeron stormed toward her. Renee held her ground but her hand was in her drawer, her pistol loaded. Its cold bulk in her hands.

Aeron snatched her pen off the desk.

“You tell your friends that your favorite food is nouveau cuisine because you think it makes you more sophisticated when your real favorite is Croque Madame. You wear high heels even when your feet are so sore that you can barely walk because your husband left you for a girl over six foot—”

“Stop it!” It was her cover. Her cover with glimmers of the truth. Her favorite food. The fact that she hid how she still had trouble walking with the cover about an ex-husband. None of it was written down. Aeron couldn’t know it.

Aeron shook her head. “Your mother calls you Tess, because she knows that to call you the name of the sister you hate makes you feel pathetic. She thinks it toughens you up but all it has ever done is rip away your self-confidence.”

Renee swallowed.

Aeron must have known Renee’s cover was fake. She’d recited verbatim the way she covered up the agony of that name. It was as if she was reading it somehow. Renee glanced at the pen, tried to snatch it but Aeron dodged.

“Your favorite color is blue, you have two dogs called Sasha and Misha, your dad was your hero, your first pet was a goldfish named George.”

Renee stared at her. She and Abby had owned Sasha and Misha. They lived with Abby. How could she know . . . how . . . ?

Aeron leaned on the desk. “And you’re wearing red lacey underwear that you bought as a luxury to make yourself feel better when you’re stuck in this hole day in, day out.”

Renee knew her face had drained of color. She caught the glimmer of truth in Aeron’s eyes that she knew. She knew a lot more than she was spouting out. In fact, it was like she was censoring it. She was guarding her, exactly like Lilia would.

“Forget the job. Get out of my life,” Aeron shot at her, pain glinting through her eyes.

She stormed out, slammed the door behind her. Renee hurried to catch up, to say what she wasn’t sure but her heart ignited. Her heart demanded that she stop ignoring it and listen. She pulled open the door. Aeron had pinned Val, a guard, against the wall. Her threat rang through the hallway. Not the threat of a skewed soul like Yannick but of a hurt, broken, and fed up young woman who was sick and tired of having lumps kicked out of her.

Renee looked down at her shaking hand. She’d picked up the pen without realizing. She stared down at it, shook her head, and wandered back into her office. Her heart seemed to know a lot more than she did.

From now on, she was going to trust it.

 

Renee glanced up at Huber. He held his pistol up. Renee walked to the desk, ignoring the prickling fear creeping up her spine, over her arms, into her chest. She picked up the letter opener on the desk, took a deep breath, and let herself see.

“You’re the youngest of three, the only boy. Your sisters both live in Germany. They never got involved in the family business.” She had no idea how her mouth was moving or how she knew. “They helped slaves escape and because of that your parents lost all their fortune. When you met her . . .” Renee glanced at the doorway, a picture of Frei’s mother flickered before her eyes. “She was owned by someone you couldn’t touch.”

Huber sucked in a breath. The same look she knew she’d worn when Aeron did it to her. A barrier dropped and she saw behind it, she didn’t dare utter those truths here.

“You always knew she’d follow the same path. Your heart tore and lifted when she showed promise but you couldn’t risk her getting discovered.” Renee nodded as Huber’s hand trembled, the gun trembling with it. “You did everything, including sending her to Caprock to keep her safe so they wouldn’t see . . .” She held his gaze. “They wouldn’t see what was right in front of their noses.”

“How do you know this?” His tone rang out with the agony, the guilt he so clearly felt.

“You knew they were both yours. You knew that she adored you, only neither of you had counted on an ambitious vixen getting in the way,” she muttered.

It made sense now.

Megan.

She’d always been after his name, after a place in higher circles. With her father’s money, Huber couldn’t really refuse under his parents’ watchful eyes. Megan had known it and played on it.

“It must have been excruciating to stand back and act like you didn’t care. Can you do that again?” she asked.

Huber scowled at her. “What do you know of my heart?”

“That it’s only ever wanted one woman.” Renee reached forward and touched his hand. “That you adore the same spiky beauty I do, we do.” She motioned to Aeron. “That you’d never harm her.”

She relaxed with the truth. Huber couldn’t hurt Frei. He’d never dream of it.

“She needs your help. We need you to help us find her.” She kept her voice soft, lowered his gun, and took it from him. “Please.”

Huber swallowed and glanced at Aeron. “I’m listening.”