And did they know about Uncle Terry? Or had they gotten to him already?
“Traitorous bitch,” he growled at me. “Turning on your own people.”
“Go feck yerself,” I told him. He’d probably lived his whole life here in Canada, far from the Troubles. What did he know of what went on over there? How many loved ones had he lost? He was just some eejit cousin of some other eejit back in Ireland.
“What did you say to me, you bi-”
I rolled off the far side of the bed, holding the pillow. As soon as I hit the floor, I tossed the pillow up into the air toward him.
He fired. The heavy clacking of the gun’s slide mechanism overshadowed the spitting sound of the silenced rounds.
Another moment and I was at his feet. I drove my shoulder into him hard, striking him behind the knee. His arms windmilled as he fell backwards. I jumped on top of him, grasping for the gun.
He threw a wild punch that grazed my forehead. I jabbed my thumb into his throat. He squealed and punched again. That one caught me flush in the jaw and lifted me backward. Stars flashed in my head.
I landed on the carpet with a heavy thud. The bright flashes faded to twinkle. My jaw throbbed.
“Fucking bitch!” he yelled, scrambling to his knees. “I’m going to blow your-”
His words were cut off. A rasping gurgle escaped his lips.
I shook my head to clear it. In the darkness, I could make out Laddie behind the intruder. His arms wrapped around the man’s throat like a boa constrictor. Both of the intruder’s hands flailed at Laddie’s squeezing arms.
The gun. Where was the gun?
I felt around on the floor until my hand touched metal. My fingers wrapped around the grips. It felt like a.45. Probably Colt.
“Let him go, Laddie. I’ve got the gun.”
Laddie gave him a final squeeze and pushed him to the floor.
“Get the light.”
Laddie rose and flicked on the table lamp. The intruder lay face down on the carpet, gasping for air and clutching at his throat.
“You should have let me kill him,” Laddie said.
“There’s still time for that. First I have some questions for the lad.” I prodded him with the tip of the silencer. “Up with ye now. I’ve a question or two.”
He let out a rasping cough, but forced himself up to a sitting position. When he looked at me, his eyes widened slightly. His gaze swept up and down my body.
“Get a good look, lad,” I said. “Because if ye don’t answer my questions, this’ll be the last girl ye ever see in the nip. Ye hearin’ me?”
He looked me in the eye and nodded. When he met my gaze, I saw the fear in those eyes. Fear was a good thing.
“Good. Now what’s yer name?”
“Walt,” he sputtered, rubbing his throat.
“Fine name, Walt. Fine name.” I leaned forward. “Now, Walt, this next question’s a bit important. I need to know who sent ye.”
He paused.
I pointed the gun at his foot and fired.
The gun slide clacked. The silencer suppressed the crack of the explosion, but the concussive force of the round shook the room. The bullet tore into Walt’s foot. His eyes flew open wide in disbelief.
Then the pain set in.
Laddie immediately stepped forward with the pillow and pressed it against Walt’s mouth to suppress the screams. Walt’s face broke out in a deep sweat. Mucus flared out of his nostrils. His breath came in ragged gasps.
“Now do ye think I’m serious?”
He nodded frantically.
I motioned toward his foot. “A good doctor and a month of recuperation and that’ll be better. Leastways so ye can walk. Ye don’t look to me like much of an athlete, so I don’t imagine ye’ll miss the full use of it.” I swung the muzzle of the.45 toward his crotch. “But some things just don’t ever heal right.”
He shook his head rapidly left and right, terror mounting in his eyes.
“Are ye gonna tell me who sent ye?”
His motions changed to frantic up and down nods.
I met Laddie’s eyes. He moved the pillow away from Walt’s mouth.
Walt’s lips trembled. He stared down at his white tennis shoe as it slowly turned red.
“Who, lad?” I prompted him.
His eyes snapped to mine. “It was Niall. He’s my cousin.”
“I figured as much. And how did he know I was in Vancouver?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know exactly.”
I raised the gun to his other foot.
“No, please!”
“Tell me everything you do know.”
Walt whimpered. Then he told me his pathetic story. Niall figured out I’d fled to Canada. One of his computer geek mates was able to access the flight itineraries out of Ireland. I was afraid of that. They must not have had time or resources to come after me in Montreal, but by the time I got to Vancouver…
“Why you?”
“Niall said he needed it done quick. Before you disappeared.”
“What name did he give you?”
“Name?”
“What name did he call me by?”
“Angela Quinn.”
“And?”
“And that your real name was Shae.”
No mention of Tara Kelly. Maybe that was still safe.
“All he wants is the money,” Walt said. “He said if you had it, I was supposed to-”
“I don’t have his feckin’ money,” I snapped at him.
Walt blanched and stopped talking.
“When were you supposed to call him back, then?”
“As soon as I…as soon as it was done.”
I glanced up at Laddie. His face was calm.
“Well, Walt, then I’d say ‘tis done.” I raised the pistol and fired a round directly into his forehead. His body flopped to the floor and lay still.
“We should go,” Laddie said.
“Do ye think?” I asked sarcastically.
He nodded, a slow smile spreading over his face. “Yeah. This is one of those situations that’s a little bit funny.”
We cleaned up as best we could and dressed. Laddie had fewer possessions than I did. His room was rented under an alias. We slipped out into the night. I was going to leave the.45 behind, but Laddie couldn’t bear to part with it.
“Besides,” he said, “you never know when you’ll need it.”
At my motel, I grabbed my bag. We took his tiny Datsun and drove to the other side of Vancouver before holing up in a Motel 6.
Inside the room, we sat at the small table in silence. I wanted to tell Laddie the story that got me here. How brokering a simple, if strange, deal had gone to shit. How Niall’s crew, the IRA and the cops all wanted my hide. But somehow, I think he understood it without being told.
I lifted the telephone and dialed Terry’s number from memory. Terry picked up the phone with a sleepy “hello.”
“Terry? It’s Tara.”
“Tara? How are you, lass?”
“I’m all right. You weren’t at the airport.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. But your Aunt Mary had a stroke. I had to take her into the hospital in Cranbrook. I tried to leave you a message at the airport-”
“I heard them call for me. I wasn’t sure I should answer.”
“I understand. Listen, I can come get you in the morning, I think. Will you be okay until I — ”
I looked over at Laddie. “I might have a ride worked out,” I told Terry.
“A ride? How’s that?”
“I’ll explain when I see you. And I’ll see you soon.”
He was silent for a few moments. “All right,” he said finally. “I’ll see you soon.”
I hung up the phone and returned my gaze to Laddie. “I have an uncle,” I said.
“That’s nice.”
“In Rossland.”
“Good.”
“We can hide out there.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, maybe. But we need some cash first. Enough to last a year or two.”
“A year or two? Where in the hell are we going to — ”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m a good planner. Everything will go like clockwork.”
“What will?”
He held up the.45 and waggled it.