Chapter 34
After a couple of hours of fitful sleep broken by violent nightmares, I gave up. Trudging into the echoing stone cavern of the bathroom, I fought to focus on the bright side.
At least I hadn’t slept well enough to get deeply into my nightmares, so I hadn’t woken up screaming. And maybe Kane would be safer now that our listeners knew he meant nothing to me.
Or maybe they’d just kill him since he was no use as leverage.
Don’t think about that.
I turned the water on full blast.
A long hot shower left me almost awake, and by the time I’d finished drying my hair I had forced myself to concentrate on my next goals. Figure out Riel’s game, and find out why Kane was here and what he was doing. And find Dante. And Arnie.
The mineral pool with Riel would be my first stop. Meanwhile, though, I was starving.
The small refrigerator held Perrier, grapes, cheese, and crackers. Not exactly my breakfast of choice, but it would have to do. At least I wouldn’t pass out from sheer hunger and drown in the pool.
My makeshift breakfast half-eaten, I froze. What if they had drugged the food?
I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Why would they?
And anyway, it was a little late to worry about it.
Alert to any unusual sensations, I finished eating. When I hadn’t keeled over ten minutes later I grabbed my bathing suit and headed for the spa.
It was eight AM when I arrived, and the pool was deserted. In the luxuriously-appointed changing room I slipped into a spacious cubicle, suspiciously surveying the walls and ceiling for hidden cameras.
I didn’t spot any, but nevertheless I changed as quickly as possible into my one-piece suit and wrapped myself in one of the thick white terry-cloth robes hanging behind the door. I rolled my pistols and holsters into a second robe and tucked the bundle under my arm before cautiously leaving the cubicle.
Padding barefoot to the pool area, I took stock as I shed my robe and approached the pool. Soothing instrumental music complimented the trickling of a pebble-and-bamboo water feature in the corner, and the creamy tiles were warm under my feet.
More importantly, there were three exits: the one I’d come through from the main house into the spa reception area; another marked ‘Employees Only’; and the third leading out through a wall of glass that overlooked the frost-rimed landscape. In summer it would be beautiful with the footpath meandering downhill flanked by gardens, and the water fountain playing in the pond beside the ornate gazebo. Today the dead-brown gardens looked cold and dismal and the half-frozen pond matched the sullen grey of the clouds.
I shivered and stepped into the pool, letting out a long breath as the hot silky water lapped around my legs. Lowering myself onto one of the submerged benches, I leaned my head back and draped my hair over my bundle of weapons like a makeshift pillow. Narrowing my eyes against the wisps of steam, I considered my strategy.
Should I confront Riel and demand information about Dante and Arnie? Get up in his face and tell him to stop wasting my time and talk business?
Or just keep playing his game, whatever it was?
I remembered his attentiveness to the group dynamics last night and his expression of disappointment when he’d reminded me that ‘It is all about the game’.
Slouching lower so the water covered my shoulders, I pondered the enigma that was Riel. Gang member; but he dressed and acted like an affable businessman. Charming and attractive except for that brief hard-eyed moment; but no hint of lust or even sexuality. Non-smoker. Non-drinker. Opposed to drugs.
With none of the usual vices, he must get his gratification from more cerebral pursuits.
Shit, it really was all about the game for him. I could push him and he might comply if he wanted the ultrasound weapon badly enough, but he’d lose respect for me. And if he wasn’t our terrorist and I antagonized him enough to make him take his future business elsewhere, the chain of command might decide I was more use to them as a prisoner doing decryptions than as a field agent.
Dammit.
“Bonjour, Arlene.” The object of my contemplation came through the spa door and hung his robe beside mine before approaching the pool with a smile. “’Ow nice that we ‘ave the pool all to ourselves. I must apologize for Monsieur Labelle last evening. He… ‘ow shall I say it? Broke our fête…?”
“Crashed our party.” I gave him an encouraging smile.
“Yes, ‘e invited himself and I did not wish to be rude. Did you sleep well?” he asked as he stepped into the water and submerged himself opposite me.
Conservative black swim trunks and no tattoos. He just didn’t suit the image of a gangland arms buyer at all.
I dragged my tired mind back to his question. What the hell, Kane’s intentions had been pretty clear when he dragged me out of the salon last night.
I gave Riel a wicked smile. “I slept well, but not for very long.”
“Ah.” Amusement sparkled in his eyes, along with something else I couldn’t quite identify as his gaze flicked to the abrasions on my arms, glowing livid red in the heat of the water. “It was a good evening, then.”
Was that a knowing look? Had he been listening to our bug?
I shrugged. “Good enough. And did you enjoy your evening?”
“Yes, I ‘ad a wonderful massage. Monsieur ‘Archman’s staff, they are… most accommodating.”
I gave a noncommittal ‘mm’. Had he taken advantage of Masseuse-Barbie after all?
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” I inquired.
“I ‘ave a manicure and pedicure booked at nine. Do you care to join me?”
“Um. No.” I nearly admitted that people wielding sharp objects around my fingers completely freaked me out, but I stifled myself in time. “I’m going to go for a massage,” I extemporized instead. “If they can fit me in.”
“I am sure they can,” he said. “And what of Monsieur Kane?”
I kept my face expressionless and my tone neutral. “I don’t know.”
A brief silence stretched between us.
Nope, buddy, that’s not going to work. I’m not going to keep talking just to fill the silence.
“Ah,” Riel said after a few moments. “So you are not bothered that Monsieur Kane and Madame ‘Archman are together.”
Together? What the hell did he mean by that? Had Tawny’s sim been based on real-life experience instead of imagination?
Oh, God. My stomach tightened.
Breathe.
“Nope.” I sank lower in the pool, leaning my head back against my bundle of guns and holding onto my poker face for all I was worth. Thinking fast, I added, “I told him to stay out of my business, so I don’t expect any trouble from him. That’s all I care about. And speaking of business… I can supply the item we discussed, if the price is right.”
There, that’s your opening. Talk business now, Riel.
“Ah,” he said again. Silence fell.
Asshole.
God, I was tired. Questions and demands hammered in my brain, but I gave a yawn that was only partly simulated and let my eyelids droop half-closed. The next move was his. Arlene Widdenback wouldn’t look eager.
The bamboo fountain trickled quietly through the soothing flute melody. The delicious warmth of the mineral waters softened my aching muscles to the consistency of warm molasses. I oozed lower in the water, my breathing slowing to match the unhurried pace of the music…
My head dropped forward and I jerked awake to face Riel’s indulgent smile.
Had they drugged me after all?
Was he going to wait until I passed out and then drown me?
Adrenaline ignited my veins, driving my pulse into rapid drumming. Wide awake now, I gave Riel a sheepish smile. “It’s very relaxing here.”
“Yes, that is why we came.” He eased lower in the water, stretching his arms along the edge of the pool. “One needs these small vacations from such a busy life.”
“You’re lucky to be able to take the time off.” I tried to sound casual. “How long will you be able to stay?”
“As long as I wish.” He smiled, stonewalling me again.
Okay, fine. Maybe he suspected surveillance here and didn’t want to chance a conversation about weapons. But at least I could work on Dante’s disappearance.
“Have you heard from James Helmand?” I asked. “My friend is still missing.”
“Ah. That is most unfortunate.” Riel gave me a convincingly sympathetic look. “I ‘ave not ‘eard from James. I called and left messages, but it seems he is… ‘ow shall I say it? Off the ground…?”
“Fallen off the face of the earth?” I suggested.
“Ah, yes. He did not return my calls.”
“I wonder if he’s returning his parole officer’s calls?” I speculated aloud.
“I do not know.” He eyed me curiously. “Why are you so certain that James is behind your friend’s disappearance?”
I blew out a breath. “I’m not. It’s just that he’s the most likely suspect if Dante’s disappearance has anything to do with me. But who knows, maybe it’s completely unrelated. It’s just suspicious timing, that’s all.”
“Indeed,” Riel murmured. “Well, I ‘ave a feeling your Dante will be found safe soon, if all goes well.”
My mental threat-detector sprang to attention. What the hell did he mean by that?
Before I could demand clarification, Riel rose and stretched luxuriously. “I must change to be ready for my manicure. Will I see you at brunch?”
“Yes,” I said, the word coming out sharper than I’d intended. “See you later.”
He left, and after a few minutes of intense thought I hauled my waterlogged carcass out of the pool and into the changing room again.
Dammit, what was going on here? Were Riel and James working together to threaten my friends? Or was I reading threats into Riel’s conversation that weren’t there? I needed advice.
Kane would know what to do.
But I couldn’t ask him with the bug in place. And I especially couldn’t ask him if he and Tawny were…
I shook off the thought.
No. Kane wouldn’t screw Tawny. In the first place, she was married. In the second place, she wasn’t his type at all.
At least, not as far as I knew. Hell, what did I really know about his preferences? Maybe he liked the slutty look. Or maybe he didn’t care as long as he got the information he wanted. Seduction was just another tool for him when he was undercover.
Was he trying to trap Tawny with the bug?
Or was he working for someone else to trap me?
No, dammit, he wouldn’t betray me. And anyway, if he’d been trying to get information from me he would have started conversations that would draw me out instead of shushing me at every turn.
Unless he hadn’t expected me to use my bug detector because I trusted him. Then if he wanted to keep my trust he’d have to pretend he was as dismayed by the bug as I was…
My exhausted brain rebelled at the convolutions of logic, and I dragged on my clothes and trudged back to the spa reception area.
The perky young receptionist assured me that several massage therapists were available and ushered me to a softly-lit room containing a pillowy reclining chair.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” she urged. “Would you prefer a male or female therapist?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
I seated myself and she activated the electronic reclining mechanism. Circling behind the chair, she murmured, “I’ll send in the therapists and you can choose the one you want. Meanwhile, just relax.” She deftly slipped a pillow under my head, and if I hadn’t been expecting the barely-perceptible press of Fuzzy Bunny’s network access key on the side of my neck I would never have noticed it.
She, or rather a construct of her, withdrew from the room. I sighed and shifted in the chair as if making myself comfortable, but I prodded the chair with an experimental finger as I did so, willing the small area to be insubstantial.
Sure enough, my finger passed right through it. She’d put me into a sim.
Okay. After my marathon session in the sim archives last night, I knew what to expect.
Moments later there was a tap at the door and five beautiful young people filed in, three men and two women. They all wore the white uniforms of the spa, but there the similarities ended. Apparently Harchman was big on variety.
The men were a dazzling selection of chiselled bodies and jaw-droppingly handsome faces. The man at the end would have movie directors falling all over themselves to cast him as an elf-king or celestial deity with his clear azure eyes and long silky blond hair bound with a leather cord. Next to him, a broad-shouldered hunk gave me a wink, his chocolate skin a mouthwatering contrast to his white uniform. The third was a boy-next-door type with brown hair and a square jaw, his hazel eyes sparkling with naughtiness.
The women were equally varied: A busty blonde and a petite Asian girl whose slim fingers looked as though they would snap like twigs if she attempted to work out the knots that were currently wound up in my shoulders.
I recognized them all from the video clips. Did they know how their footage was being used? Had they been told that their simulated selves could be made to do literally anything, and that it would be recorded for anyone to see?
I hid a shudder at the knowledge that somebody could be watching this sim right now. Waiting for me to choose my fantasy man and get naked…
My shoulders knotted up even harder at the thought, and I blew out a breath. A massage would be heavenly right now, but it wouldn’t do me any damn good since my physical body was currently sprawled in an armchair staring into space.
Anybody could be watching me there, too. And I’d never know.
My stomach clenched.
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said. “I’m not in the mood for a massage after all. I’m going to go back to my room and do some work.”
The receptionist appeared immediately. In fact, her appearance was a little too immediate since she winked into existence without actually opening the door. I pretended not to notice, and she dismissed the dream team and hurried over to my chair.
“Is anything wrong?” she inquired worriedly.
“No, nothing. I’m just going to go back to my room.” I made as if to stand up, and she pressed me back in the chair.
“Oh, just wait a moment, please, I’ll fix the chair…” She hurried around behind me and I waited while she fumbled with the controls.
Obviously the spa employees weren’t used to people backing out. I’d taken her by surprise and she needed time to set everything up in the real world for a seamless re-entry.
Thank God Fuzzy Bunny’s network keys gave me a painless exit from the sims. If only I could hack and decrypt using their keys, too, the past twelve hours would have been a whole lot more comfortable.
“There,” the receptionist said a moment later as the chair hummed into its upright position. “May I bring you a cool drink?”
Another subtle poke at the chair arm assured me that I was in the real world now.
“No, thanks. I’m just going to go back to my room.” I headed for the door, fighting disorienting uncertainty as to whether it was real or simulated.
When I stepped back into the reception area I touched the vibrant green leaves of the bamboo plant on the desk. Despite my concentration on making them insubstantial, they remained stubbornly tangible between my fingers.
Okay. This was reality.
But what if they’d found a way to overcome that limitation of the sim? What if I was in a sim even now?
They could lock up my body and hold me in a sim forever, my life unfolding exactly according to my own expectations, never knowing I was a prisoner…
Heart pounding, I hurried out.