Page 11 of Jagger

After checking on her daughter, Bella climbed out, leaving the door open and her headlights shining on the front door while she walked onto the porch. The girl was definitely scared of something, completely untrusting of anyone offering assistance. I stayed where I was, hugging my jacket more tightly around my chest.

Goddamn, I hated this time of year. My leg ached more than usual. It was going to be a rocky night.

I couldn’t believe how long she was taking to open the door. When she was finally inside, it took her an equal amount of timeto find a light. Not just one. She turned on at least six, including the outside floodlights. One scared lady.

She had her hands in her pockets as she walked back out, heading toward me after closing the driver’s door.

“The place alright?” I asked.

“It’s beautiful. Too much, but just… amazing.” Her sigh was exaggerated.

“Food. We usually have a welcome basket for guests, but this was different.”

Bella laughed nervously. “Yes, I kinda intruded.”

A very awkward silence settled between us and I had no freaking clue what to say to her.

“Anyway, I was a little rough on you earlier. I don’t know you and it wasn’t fair to act as if I did.”

She was apologizing to me? My normal self, the one that had been called an asshole thousands of times had a retort readily, but I couldn’t say it. Not to her. Not now.

Maybe never.

I shrugged instead like some ah-shucks backwoods mountain man. “No biggie. I’m sure you’re tired from your trip. There’s nothing in the cabin unless you can find a bottle of wine or two, which you’re welcome to have. I’ll have a few things dropped off in the morning for you. Food and beverages. Okay?”

“You don’t need to.”

“Not a problem. Why don’t I at least carry in your bags?”

I didn’t need much light to read her expression. Utter fear.

“You already pointed out a couple of my faults, Bella, but I’m not a serial killer.”

Maybe a mercy killer, definitely an assassin, but there’d been reasons behind the men I’d killed.

Her laugh was as nervous as a kitty cat. “I know that. I would appreciate your help.” She unlocked the back so I could grab her things.

“You’ll find, I think, three bedrooms upstairs. Pick any one you want.”

She nodded before gathering Cally into her arms. I waited until she was inside before opening the hatch, standing back for a few seconds before grabbing anything. There were only four suitcases, none of them I’d considered large enough to hold enough clothes. There was a single stuffed animal and unless some were buried in one of the bags, there were no toys.

Even more startling was the long duffle bag positioned on the side. I recognized the look of it. After looking up toward the house and seeing no one, I allowed my curiosity to kill the cat. Snooping wasn’t in my job description, but I had to know what I might have brought into the resort. Assassins came in all shapes, sizes, and genres.

My brothers would tell me I was still living in my past, but there was no way to avoid it. Not after everything I’d been through. I tugged the bag closer, immediately pulling the zipper. The contents weren’t what I thought; no assault rifles or handguns and correlating ammunition. But the weapon was just as deadly when used by a skilled marksman.

A crossbow.

What in God’s name was she doing with a crossbow?

“Whew,” I whispered, lifting it from the bag for a few seconds. The damn thing was a professional model. Now I knew Miss Bella Winters wasn’t who she said she was. I couldn’t take any longer for fear of discovery. I hurriedly returned the weapon, zipping and grabbing all the bags. I couldn’t pick and choose, or she’d become suspicious.

I placed them just inside, closing the door behind me. While I’d been in all the cabins at least once, it struck me all over again how much money my parents had invested. My father was many things, including an ex-Marine. He was also hiding more secrets than he’d wanted his kids to learn. I’d learned a long time ago how to recognize when someone was hiding behind a lie.

The three of us had stopped pressing our dad for how he’d gotten so much money, none of us believing he’d squirreled away money from a now dead and once corrupt organization. But the man was dying and the three of us had made a determination to let our questions drop.

That didn’t mean I wasn’t still curious, occasionally surfing the internet for any clues.

I headed for the fireplace, happy to see leftover wood. After opening the flue, I spent my time starting a fire. No matter how well insulated the house, the brisk wind could still cause a chill. It was funny that I didn’t care about that at my own place.

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