The Laughing Assassin [Assassin's Diary] (Siren Publishing Classic) (8 page)

He was going to find out the truth, and no matter what happened, she was his. The trip back to town was slow, but he was a patient man, and the time was well utilized to formulate his next move.

When he arrived back, his quarry and her charge were both relaxed in footbaths. He couldn’t see much, but that didn’t matter to his agenda for the moment. What mattered was whether or not he could gain her acceptance.

He told himself that he wanted her to accept the mission he needed her experience for, but he knew he really wanted her to accept him, the man he was and all that entailed.

It wasn’t that Jonah was unable to get a woman. That wasn’t the problem. The problem lay in the fact that he wasn’t one for subterfuge in his personal relationships, and he despised lies most of all. For most people in his profession that wasn’t a problem. They lied to everyone, including themselves, daily. But he was not the kind of person that wanted to wear a mask with his loved ones. He liked the idea of being himself without any boundaries on what he could speak about. That left him with too few options in his dating pool, and he hated the idea of sleeping with anyone he worked with on a daily basis.

The merge between the job at hand and the person he worked with was a tightrope walk as it was. When people worked and died together, the dynamic of their relationship was beyond the norm. So for him to make a slipup and fuck one of the other agents would be a dire mistake that he couldn’t afford. The only thing that sex on the job could cause was stress on the trust in a fellow teammate, and by default the team as a whole suffered.

But for her? He was definitely willing to take a chance and make the concept work. The two of them together would probably scuff a few toes, especially when he considered his refusals before. There were several women who wanted to tango with him between the sheets, but he didn’t want to make waves within his tight-knit unit since, as the leader, he had to lead by example. Not that sex between agents was forbidden, but he personally knew where workplace relationships could lead, and all the roads were named trouble with a big letter T, not even the small one would do. But she was worth the issues, of that he was sure.

When he covertly saw them exit the spa, he didn’t immediately follow her. That would be a rookie mistake, and he was far from a rookie to the game of espionage. Jonah gave her five minutes as a head start then made way back to the bakery. It was where she lived, above the storefront she used for her business. Once he got there, he settled in to see if there would be any activity, but no dice. He knew that she was staying in tonight, based on the fact she had pizza delivered, and now he wouldn’t have the chance to see her until the morning. He was going to be there at opening and use her Wi-Fi while he watched her in action.

Jonah went to sleep that night with a hard-on that no amount of self-gratification or cold water could lower below full mast. But the next morning he had an adrenaline rush, almost the same as the one he had when he was about to go on a mission. But this time the chemical rush was from the allure of seeing her again.

The shop was quiet this morning, but his prior surveillance told him her morning rush wasn’t until eight a.m., and he would be conspicuous when he arrived. But even that was all right with him. He wanted her to notice him. Usually, he went into a situation with as much anonymity as possible. He preferred the idea of being able to walk in and back out without notice. In truth, the fewer people that saw him the better the outcome of his goals in most cases. But now he wanted to be seen by her.

He walked in the door, and the chimes gave his entrance away, even though the door was completely silent and only a hiss was heard from the displacement of air when it closed behind him.

He heard the familiar sound of her voice call out from the back of the store.

“Sorry, I’ll be just a minute. I have to pull these out right now, or there won’t be any éclairs today.” The faintest chuckle accompanied her words as if she found humor in her dry assessment on the importance of the éclair on the day at large.

“No problem, I sure wouldn’t like to be the reason that someone goes without an éclair today.” He laughed when he heard a pan drop from the back kitchen.

She was true to her word and strolled out one minute later to serve him.

“Oh, it’s you.” Her expression was far from surprise, merely resigned as if she knew she would see him again and didn’t like the fact she was right. But there was a twinkle in her eye that belied her facial mien.

“Yes, it’s me, Ms. Bishop. Were you hoping for someone else, instead of a paying customer?”

“Well, I was pretty sure that you wouldn’t bother to show back up. Considering how I refused your offer of a date the other day.”

“I’m okay with that. I always get what I want. Eventually I will wear you down, and you will say yes.”

“I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

“I can’t help that. You take my breath away.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I believe that. Otherwise I would have to dig out my rusty CPR certification. To be honest, I think it elapsed already. You may not want to trust your life in my hands.” She laughed, and he couldn’t help laughing along. She may not have realized he knew what he knew about her, but the dual meaning in her phrasing wasn’t lost on him. Not at all.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone but you for the task. Somehow I think that I would be safe in your care. You seem very capable.”

“I am, but I don’t save lives as a general rule. I usually murder the unwary with my treats.” There was a sparkle in her eyes that said she had a secret and she would never tell. That was all right with him, as he had a few, too. He bet she had quite a few kills under her belt, although any deaths were not caused by her baked goods, but with the hands that created them instead.

“So can I get one of your treats today?” he asked, no pun intended, even though he knew it had to sound as if he did.

“Depends on what you are looking for,” she said, but who could really decipher what she alluded to?

“What do you recommend?” Maybe he would get lucky and she would suggest a cupcake, frosting topped with a smidgeon of her.

“At this time of day? You might like the Amish friendship muffin.” She smiled as if she let him on a big secret, one that she would never release to the general public.

“What’s that?” It sounded all right at least.

“It’s a fermented bread that I only offer two weeks a month, but you use a starter and add a few things, let it sit for about ten days, and then bake. The Amish give the starters as a gift when they enter a home and want to bring something. They normally bake it as a loaf, but I just make muffins instead. They sell out quick, so I suggest you buy two.”

“Thanks, that’s what I’ll be having then.” Shoot, he had a feeling that he was going to regret not getting more.

“For here or to go?” She sounded curious, as if her inquiring mind truly wanted to know if he were going to stay or leave.

“Here, please.” Of course, he was going to hawk her all day. He had to see how she would act under pressure, or that was the reasoning he allowed himself.

“Want it warmed with butter? Or any coffee to go with? Now before you take me up on the coffee, I don’t make frou-frou drinks here. It’s black, hot, and wicked strong.”

“That sounds like the way I like my women.”

“Yeah right. I bet if I could see into your past, there wouldn’t be a black anything in your bed. Not even sheets.” Her voice trailed into nothing for a split second, just long enough that he noted the hesitation, although, she recovered quickly enough that he couldn’t remark on it. “You owe me six dollars.”

He handed her the funds she asked for, and she gave him back the fourteen dollars in crisp bills from the formerly unused cash register. He tossed the bills back into the large mug used as a tip jar for the employees.

“So you would like to see my bed, huh? I’ll be happy to show it to you if you want.”

“Now, you, I didn’t mean anything of the sort. But thanks for the tip.” Jaden twitched away in a slight huff and came back with three muffins, instead of just the two ordered, and a side of butter. The muffins were still warm from the oven, and she slid a tray to him with the baked goods on a plate. Beside the rectangle platter was an upturned mug.

“The coffee is over there, along with cream and sugar. Today’s brew is a fair trade Colombian. Enjoy.”

“I will make sure to give my compliments when I am done.”

He took his seat, the back corner of course, since he wanted to be able to watch without appearing apparent about his goal. When he finished adding a dollop of cream to the dark brew, he sat down and kept an eye on her. She watched him as well, but her stare was that of someone severely vexed with his presence and not that of interest. When she saw he wasn’t going anywhere, she continued with the motions that made up her usual day, and he knew that she wanted to say something more than she did before. But he guessed either her professionalism or her unanswered questions wouldn’t let her until she knew the truth.

She didn’t seem to be the type of woman to ask a query unless she already knew the answer. He was the same way. He just liked to know if people would tell him the truth. It was much easier to trust his own intelligence rather than that of the lies that people unconsciously told when they were asked a question. Most people lied and didn’t even know it. Or rather, they lied so skillfully they believed their own untruths. Those people were the most difficult and dangerous. There was no way to tell when they were dishonest because they couldn’t see the truth if it was a two-by-four that slammed them in the face.

After the morning rush passed by, he still typed away, the telltale click of keys a rhythm that matched the audio feed of her pans clacking in the background. He appeared busy, but he knew that she was going to eventually ask what he was up to. Most establishment owners didn’t like customers to use too much, whether it was something as simple as coffee. It wasn’t good for the bottom line, along with the massive amounts of Wi-Fi that those types of consumers used.

But that wasn’t going to matter soon enough. He could guess that with the hefty tip he left earlier, she wouldn’t bother him for at least two hours or so. That would be the point where he wore his welcome out. After that he would have to make another purchase or leave.

But he would be back for lunch. He smiled at the thought that she wouldn’t like his reappearance then either. She seemed like she preferred to move about her life without notice from other people. And someone consuming too much or being too obvious about his observation would be in her way.

So he left and made his way back to his car. But he did make the time to smile at her once before he walked away. She scoffed at him, but he saw the smile back in her eyes, even though the cant of her lips was a scowl. It was all the proof he needed to know she was happy to see him.

It was what he needed to make his day.

When he left, he didn’t go far, just up the street, then used the hotel room he’d barely slept in. A few hours later, Jonah found himself drawn back earlier than he planned, and his fantasy woman wore a frown just for him.

It seemed that she had degrees of the expression. There was the “what the fuck do you want” scowl, there was the “I don’t want you to think I’m encouraging your crap” sneer, and of course the “what are you doing back” glower, and that was the one he received at lunch today. But that was just fine with him. She couldn’t run him away if she wanted to. Jaden really didn’t want him to go anywhere. She just acted like she did.

He decided on a turkey sandwich from the limited options she offered, and she made it man style with the meat piled twice as deep as the French loaf she freshly baked. As many options as the shop had for cupcakes, she only offered several varieties of sandwich. There was a classic roast beef, turkey, and a chicken salad. He could have piles of veggies, but that was it. She offered homemade chips and a pickle to go on the side, which could be eaten with specialty mustard also made from scratch, but nothing else.

Jonah was all right with that though. There was more for him to look at than to worry about what went in his mouth. He had to admit, the woman could cook, and she had made the best hoagie he’d had in a minute either way.

But he knew his time was running out to tell her the truth before she skillfully plumbed enough information from her sources to be dangerous to his goals.

Somehow, he was sure that she wasn’t very appreciative of liars. He certainly wasn’t. Not to mention, she had a look on her face that told him he’d better give her the info ASAP with motivation or walk away from his plans tonight. She was certain to know the truth by tomorrow morning anyway, or at least she would learn enough to throw a monkey wrench into his carefully laid plans.

Knowing what he did of her, she would most likely say no to the collaborative job he wanted and wipe the pond scum off the face of the earth herself without help.

And he could let her, but there was more to this job than a simple assassination. This was a bag-and–tag-style op. He needed stealth to acquire knowledge about who, what, when, where, and how this underground operation worked. The bits of information that he could glean showed him that he wasn’t going to clean this group out overnight. It would take at best another year, and at worst, he would be looking for members in hell after his grave was occupied.