Page 52 of Spy With Me
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 towalk around a bit and then I’ll settle in.”
Lacey seemed to think about that for a moment. “Maybe Ishould…”
Nope. This was the first time she’d been alone in weeks, andshe was taking it. Devi simply walked away. She heard Lacey curse, but shedidn’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 waswandering through life looking for that place where she could belong. For amoment she’d thought she found it with Zach. She had definitely realized thatwhere she belonged wasn’t a place. It was a mindset. It was how she felt, notwhere she was.
Why did her “place” in the world have to come with jail timeor losing him long before she was ready to?
She wandered for a while, looking into some of the shops andspending time in the tiny bookstore. She used some of the money Zach gave herto buy a book about Welsh legends and then made her way to the pub to wait forLacey.
She was reading about the Welsh god of the dead when a mansat down beside her. She glanced up. He was older and American, from hisaccent. 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 placeat the bar because it made her feel more like a local. If it had been somewoman asking her questions, she likely would start up a conversation and havefun with it. Something about this man set off her internal siren. He was maybesix foot two with a lean build and graying hair, but it was his eyes thatbothered her. They were a dark, flat brown with nothing animated about them.
They were the eyes of a predator, and suddenly she felt likeprey.
“Yeah. I like to study the places I go and visit.” She gavehim a friendly smile. It wasn’t like she’d never dealt with predatory menbefore. The key was to make them feel like you didn’t recognize them and thendash as soon as possible. Lacey should be here soon, so he wouldn’t have a tonof time to hit on her. She got the feeling Lacey would know how to shut a dudedown.
Devi did, too, but she was supposed to wait here, and shedidn’t think this guy would take her normal fuck-off speech with aplomb. Shewas supposed to not make scenes.
Also, he was way not in her age group. She pegged himsomewhere in his sixties, though he could be younger. He hadn’t taken greatcare of himself. He looked haggard but in a hungry, burn-the-world-around-himway.
“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.” Hesounded 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 thedead was named Arawn. He had a bunch of hellhounds, and you had to be invitedinto 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 thestrangest feeling.
“Well, I suppose everyone has their own take on things. It’sall about perspective, isn’t it?” He took the beer from the bartender, who thenstepped back and moved to the customer at the end of the bar. “What some wouldcall heaven others think of as hell.”
She glanced at the clock. Only a few minutes more and shecould 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 yourperspective. Like what most Americans consider a complete hellhole is how a lotof the world lives,” he said.
Oh, he was a philosopher asshole. “I assure you there arepeople in America who know what a hellhole is and who try to help. And plentywho don’t. Like everywhere in the world. I know a lot of people who try to makethe world a better place.”
“Do you?”
Okay, so she was trying to be a better spy. “Sure. Like thepeople who feed the homeless, and I’ve got a friend who is studying to be atherapist who specializes in helping children recover from trauma.” Daisy wasstarting school soon, and Devi thought this was going to be the job her friendstuck with for the rest of her life. Her calling.
“I’ve always thought therapy was a racket,” he replied withwhat she was sure he thought of as an inviting smile. “You know there arethings that happen to us that we should shove down and things we should use asfuel. That’s what trauma truly is. It’s fuel for change.”
Okay, creepy and completely wrong, but she didn’t careenough to argue. “An interesting take. I need to find the loo.”
“You fit in well,” he said with another smile. “Calling it aloo instead of a bathroom. When you get back you can tell me where you comefrom. I hear a little of a Texas twang in there.”
Creepier still. She nodded and slid off the barstool. Shewouldn’t be coming back. She was going to find herself another way out. “Youhave a good ear.”
She left her poor pint behind. She’d wanted that pint. Shemoved toward the back of the pub where the toilets were located according tothe hand-painted signs. It was good to know that she could attract creeperseven here in rural Wales.
