Nils Brooks did not call, but he did message to let her know Mara Philippi, aka the Librarian, was in federal custody without incident.
Max sent flowers but no word. After that kiss…well, she didn’t know what she wanted from him. She only knew they would have to talk and decisions would have to be made. Yes, she’d loved him once, but she’d made a new life apart from Max. Things had happened to her. No doubt things had happened to him. Could they find a neutral meeting ground? Did they even want to?
* * *
Now, two weeks later, the plane landed on the Yearning Sands airstrip and skidded toward the ocean. Just like the first time, it stopped short. The pilot lowered the stairs and Kellen limped her way out into a rare sunny day. The cold wind took her breath away, and clouds ripped across the sky, tearing like tissue paper.
A town car waited; Kellen slid inside the front passenger seat and smiled at the chauffeur. Wrapping her arms around Birdie’s neck, she hugged cautiously and was cautiously hugged in return. “They sent you.”
“I volunteered.”
Kellen teared up. Mitch had betrayed them. Mara had proved to be a killer. Birdie… Birdie was tried-and-true. “How do you feel?” Kellen asked.
“Pretty good.” She turned to show Kellen a face still disfigured with bruises and stitches and a droop that was possibly nerve damage. “I’m disillusioned about Mitch, but life can do that.”
“Tell me about it.” The week in the Montana hospital had returned Kellen to the most fragile of health, but Kellen didn’t care—she was alive.Theywere alive.
Birdie put the car in gear and started toward the resort.
Kellen turned on the seat heater, struggled out of her winter coat and settled back to watch the road as it wound through groves and over hills toward the resort. “I heard from Nils.”
“Which is more than we have,” Birdie said in exasperation. “When the government took Mara away, he disappeared in a hurry.”
“He’s got a job. An important job.” All Kellen’s doubts had been set at rest. Nils Brooks really was MFAA. “He said she’s in custody.”
Birdie hesitated. “I hope so. I hope she doesn’t escape. I don’t know why I think she can, but I do, and I’m more afraid of her than I ever was of anyone in Afghanistan.”
Kellen put her hand on Birdie’s shoulder. “I know. I used to think that gleam in her eyes was competitiveness. Now I think it’s ego and rabid lunacy.”
“Did you hear when the Feds went into her cottage to search for evidence, her bedroom closet was locked, and when they got it open, it was full of books?” Birdie glanced at Kellen. “I mean—books. First editions, autographed editions and part of a genuine Gutenberg Bible. The stash is worth millions.”
“She was illiterate and locked her books in a closet? Isn’tthatsymbolic?”
“And—” Birdie looked vaguely ill.
“What else?”
“Hands. Mummified.”
“Birdie.” Kellen pressed her back against the seat as if trying to get away from the vision. “That’s…”
“Yeah. It is.” Birdie took a breath. “There’s speculation she used a dehydrator.”
Kellen leaped to a horrifying conclusion. “Not a dehydrator in our kitchens!”
“No! At least, the chefs said no, but they’re buying new ones.”
“Ugh.” Kellen could only imagine the chefs tossing the resort’s commercial-sized dehydrators out the windows. “Mara is all things twisted and warped. Does anybody know who she really is?”
“You mean her background? No. She just appeared out of nowhere.”
Like me.Kellen shrugged the thought away. “She corrupted Mitch. I swear he was our man until she got her claws in him.”
The car swerved as Birdie half turned toward Kellen. “You can’t blame her for Mitch!”
“I guess not. I just feel less stupid about trusting him if I have her to blame.”
“He tried to kill us. He almost succeeded. For money and maybe for sex with her? I feel for his family, but he hurt me and he hurt you. He was responsible for his actions, and I don’t mourn him.” Birdie was angry, vehement.