Page 39 of Bare
He’d dreamed of Phillipe. The night was dark and eerie. The wind whipped as he stood at the edge of the walkway where Phillipe had been found dead on the cold, hard ground. Then Phillipe’s eyes jumped open, and he rose, the bullet’s exit wound round and bloody on his forehead. Phillipe’s arms ended in gory stumps where his hands had been hacked off.
Phillipe had Frankenstein-walked toward him, repeating the same thing over and over. “It’s all right there. Why can’t you see it? It’s all right there. Why can’t you see it?”
A hand touched his back. His heart jumped into his throat. He squealed. Both the pancake he’d been flipping and his spatula went soaring through the air. He pulled the earbud out of his ear just in time to hear the pancake land on the wood floor with a squishy thump. Both Thor and Jaka skittered around the kitchen, barking.
“Shit.”
Bell-like laughter filled the air.
Rosemary’s pale fingers stroked both dogs’ heads as they butted up against her legs, nearly knocking her off balance. “Settle down, guys. Settle down. Shh. Aleksei’s just a scaredy cat. He didn’t mean to startle you with that yelp.”
Her teasing tone pulled his lips into a smile. She looked radiant and ready for action in leggings that were already covered with dog hair, hiking boots, and a forest-green long-sleeved shirt. Her hair—well, her wig—was pulled back into a low ponytail.
She must have noticed the direction of his stare, because she ran long, pale fingers down her ponytail, pulling it over her right shoulder, the white-blonde contrasting sharply against the dark shirt.
Her fingers twirled the ends of the ponytail, and she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “It’s the most practical for hiking.”
“The ponytail looks great.”
“You won’t tell anyone this isn’t my real hair?” she asked.
He didn’t care about her hair. Truly. And he would never betray her confidence.
“I’ll take your secret to my grave,” he said with the same solemnity he’d used when reciting his Oath of Enlistment. The heaviness of the vow and his reference to death seemed to suck the air from the room, so he shifted to humor to lighten the mood.
“Now you better swear to me that you won’t tell anyone about that ridiculous sound I made when you spooked me.” He pointed to the pancake on the floor, smushed by dog feet and half eaten before Rosemary had nudged Jaka and Thor out of the way. “And if you don’t promise, that one’s yours.”
He was rewarded by more tinkling laughter and a relaxation that continued to grow as they ate breakfast, cleaned up—him washing and her drying as if they’d lived together for years—grabbed the dogs’ leashes, and headed out for the Falls Trail.
They hiked together like longtime partners, with similar speed and caution. The dogs continually darted ahead and circled back, spryer and more sure-footed than their humans. Like him, Rosemary hiked with a fully stocked pack. It didn’tmatter that it was just a day hike and that, even with stopping to take pictures and have a snack, the 7.2-mile in and out trail should only take a few hours. She had several protein bars, a few bottles of water, Aquatabs, a couple of emergency blankets, and a first aid kit.
He liked that she was as prepared as he was, that she was smart enough to know that people got lost and accidents happened. He'd had friends grouse at him over safety gear, telling him that he was a pessimist or that they didn’t need another grandmother, but he didn’t believe in taking chances. Not with the health and safety of people he cared about.
“Did you grow up hiking?” he asked as they approached Wyandot Falls.
At fifteen feet, it was one of the smaller falls on the trail, but Rosemary exuded the same blissful wonder she’d shown when they’d stopped in front of Ozone. At sixty feet, Ozone’s crash of rushing water had been nearly deafening. Despite being petite by comparison, Rosemary gazed at the rocks and rushing water of Wyandot with an expression that mixed elation with reverence. She took a few steps closer and raised her hands, letting the spray sprinkle her palms and face. Just as he’d begun to wonder if she’d heard his question, she answered.
“No. I remember going to the beach and Disney when I was young but never hiking or camping. My dad committed suicide when I was in middle school, and for a while, money was too tight for travel. When my mom remarried, our finances improved, but then I got sick. So, it was lots of rest and indoor time for me.” She waved her hand, encompassing the rocks, falling water, and woods surrounding them. “Now, I hike and camp whenever I’m able. I try to spend as much time as I can doing the things I love.”
“I’m sorry.” The words felt trite. Her life had been a series of tragedies. It was no wonder she tried to bring as much joy asshe could into every day. With so much shit in her life, she must always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Or maybe she was trying to experience as much as she could before it did. Maybe too many brushes with death had given her a “life is short” attitude, so she threw caution to the wind and did whatever she had to in order to live life fully before tragedy struck again. Maybe she was working for Moresco to fund the lifestyle she’d never been able to have. Money laundering was lucrative and could seem victimless. Kemper hadn’t found any anomalies in her financials, but he’d done only a quick search. He easily could have missed it.
Rosemary shrugged. “It’s OK. If life weren’t hard, how would we know to appreciate what we have? If we didn’t know loss, we wouldn’t know joy.”
Her words only reinforced the worm of doubt that continued to wriggle in his thoughts.
She turned from the waterfall, her face slightly damp. “I feel my parents with me in places like this. In the rocks, the trees, the water, the ferns, and the flowers. I know they’re watching me from above. I know they’re with me.”
He wished he felt Phillipe the same way Rosemary felt her mother and father. Or maybe he did but had never realized it. Maybe he felt Phillipe in the space next to him he had never filled. He and Phillipe had hiked and camped together for years. After Phillipe died, Aleksei hadn’t wanted anyone with him. Hadn’t wanted the intimate closeness created by sharing nature, by sharing resources and space. Hikers took care of each other. He hadn’t wanted the responsibility of another person. Not again.
“You’re quiet. What are you thinking about?”
He pasted an easy smile on his face. One he’d spent months practicing before his first undercover op. “I’m wondering how experienced a hiker you are.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. Her pack, pace, and ease on the trail made him think she’d been hiking for years, but that didn’t gel with her earlier comments.
She whistled and then scanned the area around them, turning her head to answer him only after Thor and Jaka trotted out of the woods and onto the trail. “I’ve been hiking for about eighteen months. I started as soon as I began taking Remiza. The drug performed well in trials, but I wasn’t sure if it was going to work for me. If it didn’t, I wouldn’t have had much time left. I love nature, and I didn’t want to die without spending more time in it, so I started hiking and figured what would happen would happen.”
