Page 21 of One Last Stand
The words had nothing for him. “Who’s Laney?”
“Oh, sorry, pal. Da. I think she’s going by . . . what is it?—oh, yes,London.”
Shep’s entire body chilled as he stared at the man. Clean-shaven, green eyes, sharp features, almost Slavic, so yes, maybe Russian. “London?”
The man checked his watch. “She should have received my message by now. It might be a little longer—I’m not sure where she’s hiding the key, if it’s not on her.”
Shep ignored the eggs, suddenly not hungry. “It’s going to take a lot longer than you think,mate.I don’t know what’s going on here, but London is”—he drew in a breath, growled out the word—“dead. So if you’re trying to, I don’t know, enact some sort of revenge or leverage or whatever you have in your head . . . it’s over, pal.”
The man had sat at the small table, picking up a cup of tea. Now he looked at Shep and laughed.
Laughed.
It shuddered through Shep, and he turned at once brittle and hot.
Especially when the man smiled. “She’s not dead.”
No.“I saw her body.”
The man took a sip of tea, put it down. “You sawabody.”
He refused the terrible, wild spurt of lethal hope. “It was her—her build, her hair?—”
“The woman you saw was a member of a group of assassins called Odin—a Russian word that means ‘one.’ In English, they call themselves the Orphans. Your girl, London—Laney, as I know her—killed her and set up the woman’s body to divert her escape.”
Shep just . . . well, the information simply wouldn’t settle into him. “No. That’s not . . . I mean . . .” And yes, he knew she’d had a different life before she came to Alaska. Knew also that it’d involved clandestine skills, butmurder. . . “No. London wouldn’t kill anyone.”
“But Laney Steele would.” The man winked.
Shep just stared at him. “You don’t know her. Didn’t know her. She wasn’t?—”
“I think you’re the one who didn’t know her.” He set down his cup again. Picked up a paper napkin and wiped his mouth. Folded it on the table. “I’m the one who knew her. The real version of your friend London. Laney Steele, Black Swan, spy . . . and my fiancée.”
Every cell in Shep’s body simply shut down.Her fiancé?“But you’re . . .dead.”
Tomas made a sound of wry humor, maybe, but shook his head. “No. She just left me for dead. And I’ve made a good go of it, but . . . well . . .” He pursed his lips. “I’m not the only one looking for her. And this is why I know that Laney is notactuallydead. What I’m not sure about is if she is still in Anchorage. So indeed, this is a bit of a long shot. But I’m willing to take a gamble. After all, she owes me, and she knows it. And . . . for the record, I do believe she really does care for you.”
Shep looked away.
“At least, the woman you know does. What does she call herself? London? Interesting.” He sighed. “I’m not sure that the woman I know as Laney Steele knows how to love. But she is good—very good—at her game. So we’ll just sit tight and wait. And we’ll see who is dead and who isn’t.”
They’d be waiting for a ghost. Because despite the man’s words, ithadbeen over a month. And if London were alive, she would have told him instead of letting Shep believe . . .
Not even this Laney person could be that cruel.
“She’s dead, buddy. Let me go and I’ll walk away.”
“No eggs for you, then?” Tomas got up. “They’re getting cold, and you’re being quite rude.”
Wow, Shep had never in his life wanted to hurt someone the way he wanted to wrap his hands?—
Breathe. He wasn’t that guy. Hadneverbeen that guy, and that was the problem, really. Why he lived in Alaska, worked on an SAR crew instead of . . . well, instead of the other offer he’d gotten.
“So, you’re Tomas, then.”
The man had started for the bowl of eggs and now stopped. “She told you about me.”
Shep lifted a shoulder.