“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I growled.
“I just expected more from you, that’s all.”
“So you are saying that you don’t kill innocent people? I guess you are just misunderstood.”
“No, I’m not saying that, Bombay,” Dekker said slowly. “You of all people should know that sometimes bad things happen to good people. It’s the nature of war.”
I let his words chill me for a moment. He was right. No matter how careful or just any war was, sometimes innocent people got killed. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
“The way I hear it, and my sources are good, you”-I pointed at him directly-“don’t seem to mind it when an unarmed woman or child gets in the way.”
Dekker’s face darkened with something I couldn’t read. “Believe what you want.” He turned his face away, indicating the conversation was over.
I replaced the duct tape over his mouth. “That’s right. I remember why I’m going to kill you.” As I stood up, I paused. “Thanks, Dekker.”
What the hell was I thinking, talking to him like that? Man, Veronica Gale was really messing with my head. I needed to get rid of her, then get rid of Dekker, find my RV and immerse myself in carnival sawdust and stale corn dogs.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Longbaugh: A heart is the only thing that has value. If you have one, get rid of it.
– THE WAY OF THE GUN
We landed at the Cedar Rapids, Iowa, airport several hours later. The pilot would get the plane refueled by the time I returned for Dekker. I’d like to say that, as the plane taxied to a halt, Veronica and I made up and had sex the entire time. I’d like to say that. But I can’t. We barely spoke. I don’t know why I was being so stubborn about this. But then, she was being stubborn too.
The saying Two wrongs don’t make a right popped into my head. I ignored it as I rented a car and loaded Ronnie’s things into the trunk. We drove in silence to Iowa City. It was an unbearable twenty minutes. I decided I’d take her home, then get rid of Vic and go home myself.
The only time she spoke was to give me directions to her apartment. We pulled up in front of a Victorian house with a wraparound porch. To my complete surprise, a very attractive young man about Ronnie’s age came out the front door and hugged her. Who in the hell was that?
“Hi.” The guy came up to me and shook my hand. “I’m Drew. Thanks for bringing Veronica home.”
Home? Home was with this guy? Whoa. What was going on here? I looked at Ronnie. She stood there with her hands on her hips. What did that mean?
I shook his hand, trying to control my temper. “Cy Bombay. And it’s no problem. She’s all yours.” I shot a look at Ronnie, who threw her hands up in the air while Drew grabbed her luggage.
“You failed to mention Drew,” I said evenly.
She grinned. “I guess you can’t pigeonhole me either.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t know everything about me, Cy Bombay. You think you have me pegged, don’t you?” Her anger was rising. At least, that was what the red color climbing her neck said. “It makes me so angry that you could be mad about Drew when you play your story so close to the vest!”
“What story? I don’t have a story!” Okay, so I did. And it was a whopper. But that was beside the point. I’d been up-front with her about my life, my education and my history with women.
“Well, for one thing, why do you have a Dutch mercenary tied up in the bathroom of your private jet?”
“Did you forget that Dekker tried to kill you? That he tried to kill me?” I was getting pissed off now.
“I don’t know why you couldn’t have let the authorities in Mongolia have him after he kidnapped me. I don’t understand why you couldn’t deal with Interpol or any other authorities. Why didn’t you just turn him over to the airport security in London instead of dragging him along with us?”
She had me there. All those points made sense. There really was no way to tell her without explaining that killing Dekker was part of my job. That was something I knew I could never tell Veronica.
“Are you going to kill Arje, Cy?”
I had no answer for her.
Ronnie drew herself up to her full height. She’d made some kind of decision. “I will tell you the truth about Drew. I love him. That’s all you need to know.” She spun on her heel and went inside the house, slamming the door behind her.
It took everything I had to get back into the car and start the ignition. Unfortunately, I looked at the window and watched as Drew draped his arm around Veronica and kissed her forehead.
I made the twenty-minute trip back to Cedar Rapids in eight minutes. During that time, my brain was turned inside out. Why didn’t she tell me about this Drew character? Clearly they had a relationship by the way he touched her. And that looked like a house, not an apartment I dropped her off at.
Oh, my God. She totally played me with that innocent bullshit! And I fell for it for the first time in fifteen years. She even pretended to love my guinea pig! Sartre was made a fool of! Well, I couldn’t stand for that.
The pilot wisely said nothing as I climbed on the jet and told him to take me to Santa Muerta to dispose of Arje Dekker.
I don’t remember much of the flight. I had a major headache, and I don’t get headaches. Ever. Somehow we crossed Central and South America and landed on the Bombay family’s private island before I could string a sentence together.
Mum was standing on the airstrip, waiting for me. Apparently, the pilot had let them know I was coming, and she’d made the trip to meet me there.
I dragged Dekker off the plane and tossed him roughly onto the tarmac. Mum threw her arms around me, but I felt like I was made of stone.
“How was your trip, Squidgy?” she asked.
“It sucked.” I pointed to Arje. “I have to kill this guy.”
My mother looked from me to Dekker. She pulled out her cell and dialed.
“Carlos?” She spoke in perfectly accented Spanish, asking one of the staff members to come and get my vic and take him to the holding area. None of the staff on the island spoke English, and every last one of them was male. They never asked questions and got paid handsomely for their work. Carlos wouldn’t have to kill the vic. That was a Bombay job. But he could take him to a room below the main level that was basically an escape-proof cell.
“Come on, dear,” Mum said, taking my hand. “When was the last time you ate?”
I didn’t really feel like eating. But I allowed her to take me to the dining hall and set before me a plate of my favorite food. In case you are wondering, it was tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. With all my worldly experience, that was what I wanted to come home to.
Mum watched me eat without saying a word. She knew something was up. She also knew that I wouldn’t talk before I was ready. I felt like a stubborn child, but was in no way interested in a conversation about how Veronica Gale played me for an idiot.
So my mother chattered on about my cousins, Dad and the weather. I took in the information but it never registered.
“Why don’t you let us take care of your vic?” Mum’s words caught me up short. “You look like you could use a break.”
I shook my head. “No. It’s my job. I just need to get some sleep. I’ll take care of him tomorrow.”
She nodded, patted my hand and left. I finished up and, after liberating a bottle of twenty-five-year-old scotch from the bar, headed up to my room.
As I mentioned, the Bombay family has their own island. This is where the council stays most of the time and runs the actual family business. My cousin Missi and her sons live here year-round. The island is our home base. We have family reunions here every five years where we get to hang out, have our evaluations and sometimes take a turn on the ropes course.