A Wanted Woman Part 23

"The LKs have a wicked computer person. Hard to get into their systems."

"You need someone on a higher level to do your dirty work."

"We got in."

"Why didn't you say that from the start?"

"We were in ten minutes, downloading as fast as we could, before we were shut down."

"Get anything good?"

"You're referred to as the Kiwi. The Woman of a Thousand Faces."

"An exaggeration, but flattering. I only have nine hundred and ninety-nine faces."

"The safe house you used there, they found it. Seems like you left much information behind. They have upped their game and a.s.signed a team to find you and they have been working nonstop."

"Who is on their team?"

"The big guns. Guerrero. Kandinsky. Appaloosa. War Machine."

"I've met them all. There should be another one called King Killer."

"King Killer wasn't on the intel."

"They threw the politician from the roof of a hotel when I was in Trinidad. Appaloosa beat the politician, p.i.s.sed on him, raped the politician's coolie date in front of everybody."

"That's old-school war. During battle the men would beat the enemy, and after each battle all the women would be raped. You killed the man, p.i.s.sed on him as an act of dehumanization, and left the sperm of his enemy deep inside of his woman. That drove the enemy mad, made him reject his wife. You allowed all men to rape her until they could rape no more. That was how you destroyed your enemy."

"Sounds like the LKs' strategy. Never saw any man like them. They're like the Salvadorian gangs, MS-13, the ones that don't mind dying, don't care about anything, are unafraid of everything."

"What they are doing, searching for you, that takes money."

"They have the money. They have South American drug money, maybe unlimited capital."

He nodded. "At least one would a.s.sume."

I whispered, "They're not giving up. I'll need to move soon, very soon."

"This island never should have even been a layover for you."

"I know. I moved next door to the enemy."

"If you can escape to Na.s.sau, I can put you up, hide you for a while."

I heard voices and jumped. Silhouettes. Laughter. People were coming out to the beach. So was a security guard. My hand was in my backpack, gun inside aimed at shadows.

Black Jack stepped away and said, "We should part ways."

I saw no threat, then slid my backpack on one shoulder, became ber-girly, giggled, sashayed toward him, fingers extended, and commanded, "Hold my hand, Black Jack."

"Wow. You just s.h.i.+fted and became someone else from head to toe. How do you do that?"

"Leaving abruptly could raise a flag. Security comes, you leave in a hurry, basically you run away, then a dead body found later, they remember a man acting suspicious, a Bajan man with tribal markings on his arms. If the guard pa.s.ses by a couple being romantic, when the s.h.i.+t hits the fan, we're the last people he will remember because in his mind, he will be trying to remember anything odd. Don't be odd. They'll never look for me. They will walk by women all day. A bad boy like you will always be a suspect."

"This is why you've never been caught."

"This is why I was able to walk out of the front door of Trinidad."

He moved closer, swallowed, did what I asked. His hand was sweaty and it continued to shake. Touching me terrified him. He didn't know if I was luring him in close so I could gut him with a blade. Killing him would ensure the Barbarians never knew about this transaction. He was nervous. I hummed. Cargo s.h.i.+ps lit up in the distance, the lights from Bridgetown so beautiful.

He asked, "Hungry?"

"I need to eat a decent meal."

"Stop by my place and eat."

"Where do you live?"

"Near Coral Ridge Cemetery. Ridgeview Estates."

"You already have food at home, or would I have to come by and cook?"

"Ackee and saltfish. Might be leftover stew fish in the house too. I think I have some mash-up. Fruit. Yellow rice. Jonnycakes. Junkanoo juice. A few Oh Henry chocolate bars."

"Who made all of that?"

"I cook. I made everything except for the Oh Henry."

"Wine?"

"I have some. Probably have five different types."

"No roommate down here?"

"No steady girlfriend, no one who would pop over unannounced, if that's what you mean."

"Neighbors?"

"Expats. Professionals. Brits. Groundskeepers and housekeepers are gone by six in the evening. Most catch the bus at the end of the road. The residents keep to themselves."

"I need a comfortable place to rest. The cheap mattress down there is killing my back."

"I have a private gallery in the back that looks out on a sward that goes on as far as the eye can see, and the closest neighbor can't see jack. There is a plunge pool you can relax in."

"You have air-conditioning?"

"In all the bedrooms and downstairs, so the whole place is at a comfortable temperature."

"Air-conditioning at night. Sleeping without sweating. I think the heat keeps me up. The inability to breathe fresh air makes me wake up suffocating. What you have sounds like heaven."

"You could have upstairs to yourself and I could sleep downstairs."

"Are you attracted to me?"

"Yes. I am."

"Does that mean that you want to have s.e.x with me?"

"It crossed my mind two or three hundred times when we were at Chefette."

"I'm on the run from the LKs and you're thinking about getting your d.i.c.k wet?"

"From a medicinal perspective, might help you get the edge off so you can sleep."

"How old are you?"

"Fortysomething."

"Even without the 'something,' you're old enough to be my father."

"Experienced men make the best lovers."

"They should. They've been at it longer. You were in the arena before I was born."

"Hot water. Bed with a brand-new pillow-top mattress. Plunge pool."

"You had me at 'hot water.'"

"I can tell you how to get to that part of Christ Church Parish from here in St. Michael."

"Thanks for the offer. I'll pa.s.s. I might be too dangerous."

"In bed?"

"I meant with the LKs hunting me. Would hate for them to find me naked with my a.s.s up and face in a pillow b.u.mping back into your stiffness and moaning to Jesus and his daddy."

"Did you have to say that?"

"Was keeping it real."

"Not going to happen?"

"No. You were older than I am now when I was born. I was in Pampers when you were in condoms. I was s.h.i.+tting on myself and you were f.u.c.king the s.h.i.+t out of some woman."

"Anything else you need me to do?"

"Stay focused on my professional needs. Get Hacker to learn how to be a better hacker. She got in once, have her break in again. If she is in this business, she has to outsmart them."

I let his hand go, gradually, not all at once. Didn't really want to let go. I hadn't touched anyone with kindness in more than a month. Hadn't felt human since Parker. Needed human contact.

Under starlit skies, music coming from the Hilton, Black Jack headed toward the Jet Ski.

I said, "Wait."

"What?"

"We're supposed to be a couple. Hug me and pretend you're saying good-bye."

I put my arms around his waist and pulled him closer. We squeezed each other.

"Reaper, you can let go now."

"Women always hug longer."

"Considering something is not ever going to happen, you're holding me d.a.m.n close."

"Please ask your d.i.c.k to stop growing."

"Sorry about that, but it rarely listens to what I say."

Someone pa.s.sed us. A tall brown-skinned woman. The Amazon trekked back to the parking lot, put a suitcase inside of the trunk of her car, climbed into the small four-door, a gray Allex, and pulled away from the parking lot. I studied her, smelled her perfume. She never looked my way twice.

I kissed Black Jack on the lips. He tried to give me his tongue.

I let him.

When that was done, he took a step back.

I said, "By ten in the morning, that perv upstairs, he'll be found by housekeeping, cops will be called, the body taken down the service elevator and loaded up in the back so tourism won't s.h.i.+ft its business to another resort. Gun was left in his room. No fingerprints. Nothing left behind. You okay?"

"You are young and wild. Bubble gum filled with razor blades. Pressed your b.r.e.a.s.t.s against me and right away you set me on fire in a way I haven't been set on fire in a long time. Now I'll have a mean sleep. Hate to say it but, d.a.m.n, I'd like you in my bed, Reaper. It would be an honor to be with you."

"Go home, m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e, get over it, then get to working on what I need, Black Jack."

"We'll connect tomorrow."

"We're not going to connect."

"You know what I meant."

"Why do they call you Black Jack anyway?"

"Because I don't like anything over twenty-one."

"I don't like anything under twenty-one."

"You like older men."