A hint of color touched his strong cheekbones. He looked, for a moment, as though he might stalk off without answering. One deep breath brought him back under control with an effort that bespoke of long practice. Baba suddenly found herself reassessing his constant calm, which she sometimes found so provoking, and seeing a vision of an armored wall instead, built brick by brick with bloody fingers.
“No,” he said. And the pain in his eyes was so deep, for a moment, she almost forgot the question. “Not broken. Just a little banged up. Kind of like you. And like you, I’ll heal. It’s just not a rapid process.” A sly smile gave her a glimpse into the keen brain hidden under his too-long hair and deceptively mellow exterior. “Besides, in some ways, my troubles work in my favor. The people around here like me. As much as the county board would like to get rid of me, they haven’t wanted to look bad by firing a man who survived a major tragedy.”
Baba opened her mouth to ask and then shut it again when he shook his head.
“Don’t worry about it.” A shadow flitted over his face, like a cloud blowing across the full moon. “I doubt you’ll be around long enough for it to matter.”
She couldn’t argue with that; he was almost certainly right. Babas didn’t stay.
“I’ll talk to Bob in the morning,” he added. “I can call you to let you know when he thinks the bike will be ready.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“You don’t have a phone,” Liam repeated in a disbelieving tone. “Then how the hell do people get in touch with you?”
Baba shrugged. “Usually they just show up at the front door.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he said.
“Really?” She raised one eyebrow. “You did.”
Before he left, Liam turned around and gave her a hard look that sent a little shiver down her spine. She chose to blame it on the cool night air instead of the chill in his eyes.
“Remember what I said about staying away from Peter Callahan and his assistant. I don’t care what you suspect them of—I am the law here and you are a professor who is very far away from home. Make no mistake; I like you, but that won’t keep me from tossing your ass into jail if I have to.” He turned his back on her and left, slamming the door behind him to emphasize his point.
Baba scowled at the place where he’d been, and fingered the perfectly applied bandage on her elbow. It had been a long time since anyone had bothered to take care of her—she couldn’t tell if she liked it or not. She felt oddly off-balance, as if the gravity in the room was no longer what she was used to. The air tasted strange, like strawberries and spring. He said he liked her.
“I had a thought,” she said slowly to Chudo-Yudo.
“Gods help us,” he growled. “The last time that happened, we had to replace all the furnishings.”
“That fire was not my fault,” Baba said crossly. “And not that kind of thought.” She sank down on the couch, feeling every bruise and scrape complain in an unmusical chorus. Now that Liam was gone, she could get herself a tiny glass of the Water of Life and Death. That would speed up her healing and kill the pain at the same time.
“It just occurred to me that right now, Maya and whoever she is working with think Liam is nothing more than an annoyance. What do you suppose will happen if he starts digging deeper into their business and actually finds something that could hurt them?”
Chudo-Yudo hopped up on the sofa next to her, making it creak in protest. He lay his blunt head on top of a red-and-purple tapestry pillow and sighed. “In that case,” he said in a mournful tone, “I suspect he dies.”
TEN
LIAM HAD EVERY intention of following through on his promise to Baba and checking up on Peter Callahan. If nothing else, he was perversely looking forward to his next confrontation with Baba and seeing that strange light flashing in her eyes. He didn’t know how she did it, but she was astonishingly beautiful when she was angry.
If she was his, he’d make her angry from time to time, just to watch the fireworks. Not that she would ever be his. Especially not now, when finding three missing children was a lot more important than suddenly, inexplicably discovering he still had an interest in women after all. One woman anyway.
It made no difference, since he hadn’t had time to see her in days—or investigate anything to do with Peter Callahan. He’d been way too busy answering call after call from irate citizens who kept him hopping with their bizarre complaints.