Assassin's Promise (Red Team #5)

“No. She was under the influence of some drug. I don’t believe she was acting under her own will.”


“I’m very sorry to hear this. Very sorry. It’s shocking. I think you have my community confused with another, but you can help me investigate it during your stay.” He leveled a look at Greer. “I would just ask that you keep your questions for the mayor and our council members. I don’t want to alarm the greater community.”

“I understand. Thank you.” Greer couldn’t tell if he was being played, but at least he hadn’t gotten them run out of the community. The longer they were able to stay, the farther he might get in his discovery.

Looking around them, he realized they’d come to a stop at a long hall built from timber and mud. The sign over the front door read “Infirmary.” A young man stood at the door, wiping his hands on a cloth.

Greer wondered how much of their conversation he’d heard. The man was in his mid-twenties. He was of medium height, with dark hair, and blue eyes. His complexion was a little gray. Greer wondered if he wasn’t feeling well or if he was perhaps exhausted.

“Dr. Robinson, this is Mr. Dawson,” Mr. Haskel said. “He’s visiting with his wife, Dr. Chase, the sociologist from Laramie.”

Greer nodded at the doc, who nodded in return.

“How is Mrs. Bennett today?” Mr. Haskel asked.

“She’s stable, though still feverish. I would invite you in”—he gestured toward the open door behind him—“but I fear she may still be contagious,” he said.

“We understand. She’s in good hands. My wife will be sending over some soup and bread for you and the patients.”

The young doctor looked relieved. “Thank you. We appreciate that.”

Mr. Haskel faced forward and lifted his reins, but Dr. Robinson stopped him with a question.

“Have we opened our boundaries to any new resident, Mr. Haskel?” He sent a meaningful glance toward Greer.

“Nothing has changed, doctor. If a prospective citizen wishes to eschew modern civilization for the remainder of his natural life, and if such a person wishes to contribute in a beneficial way to our community, the council will review their application.”

“No exceptions?”

“No.”

“Good day, sirs.” Dr. Robinson’s wave was dismissive.

Greer looked at his companion as they continued on their way. “What was that about?”

“Mrs. Bennett has had a persistent fever. I doubt the doctor’s had much sleep lately.”

“I thought you said your community was extraordinarily healthy.”

“We are. But we are only human, Mr. Dawson. Sometimes we catch a bug that has a nasty way of running through the whole community. It’s why we have an infirmary.” He looked over at Greer. “I’m sure that happens in your community, too.”

“Oh, it does. Probably far more often than here.”

Here. In this strange Shangri-la that was almost too perfect to be real. No wonder they didn’t want anyone visiting or observing or changing what they had going on.

Greer resisted looking back toward the infirmary. He definitely needed to have more words with the doctor.





Chapter Sixteen



Owen looked up from his tablet as Casey came into the living room. Supper was still an hour away. No one else had come down for happy hour. He nodded at her and returned his attention to the article he was reading as she folded herself into the armchair next to him, her knees by her chin, her head propped on her fist as she faced him.

He continued to ignore for another few sentences. She didn’t move. He looked at her again. “Something I can do for you, Casey?”

She frowned. “Do you like my dad?”

“I’m his boss.”

She waved that away. “Yeah, but do you like him?”

“I do.”

“Do you understand him?”

Owen studied Kit’s daughter, wondering where she was headed with this. He looked out to the hallway, hoping for someone, anyone, to come into the room and spare him from this conversation. He glanced at her. “Maybe. In some things. Why?”

“Why is he so mean to Lion?”

“I think this is something you should ask him.”

“I will. I’m just trying to understand him first, Uncle Owen. I can’t ask Mom because her eyes get all big and soft anytime he’s around.”

Owen grinned, then cleared his throat and gave her a sober look. “Your dad holds the lives of all of us here in his hands—his entire team and now their wives and girlfriends. And kids, too. There’s a lot at risk. Lion attacked you once—”

“Yes, but we got that all straightened out,” she interrupted him.

“If you’ve already made up your mind about this, why ask me?”

She nodded. “Okay. Go on.”

“Lion’s primary loyalty is to his pride, not the team. Not the team’s loved ones. He’s young. He’s dangerous. And he’s still something of an unknown. As his trustworthiness becomes known, your dad’s comfort level in him will grow. Or not. Until then, your dad can only go on the experience he’s had with Lion, one in which you were exposed to grave danger and Selena was hurt—not something a team lead…or a dad…can easily overlook.”

“Oh.” She straightened in her chair, her eyes focused on nothing while she processed his explanation. After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. Makes sense.” She looked at him. “Will he get over it?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because I like Lion.”

Owen arched a brow.

“As a friend. A brother. Don’t get creepy.”

Owen smiled. “Give your dad time. And talk to him about it. You should always talk to your parents.”

“Okay.” She got out of her chair and came over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Uncle Owen. This was a good talk.”

Owen watched her leave the room, and felt a strange emptiness when she was gone. He’d never had a kid. Nor had anyone ever thought he owned the sun like she did her dad.

Chances were pretty damned slim he ever would.





*





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