“We hit it off,” Kevin continued, “and kept in touch. When I decided to start preparing for retirement, I contacted him. Our needs and interests aligned perfectly.”
“Match made in heaven,” Alex said in a sweet voice. Great, so people might be looking for him, too, she didn’t add aloud.
Kevin and Daniel went to the downstairs master to gather a wardrobe for Daniel and outfit him with toiletries. Alex showed herself upstairs, easily locating the small room Kevin had offered her. It would work. He was using it for storage right now, but there was enough space for her cot and personal things. One of the large plastic storage bins would make a decent substitute for a desktop. The bathroom was down the hall; it connected to both the hallway and what would be Daniel’s bedroom.
It had been a very long time since she’d shared a bathroom. At least this one was bigger and posher than she was used to.
The brothers were still busy when she went back to the car to sort through her stuff. There were three dogs on the porch; one she was pretty sure was Einstein, one huge black Rottweiler, and a reddish-brown, sad-faced dog with floppy ears who reminded her of the dog whose leg gets broken at the end of Lady and the Tramp. So that probably meant he was a hound dog or a bloodhound or something—she wasn’t sure which was which.
The Rottweiler and the hound started toward her with more interest than menace, but it was enough for her to take a huge step back toward the door. Einstein raised his head and gave a low, cough-like bark, and the other two stopped. They sat down where they were, like they had when Kevin had given them the at-ease command.
She wasn’t sure if Einstein actually had the authority to give the other dogs orders—did dogs recognize rank?—so she moved cautiously along the porch, waiting for them to attack. They held their relaxed positions, just watching her curiously. As she passed, the hound’s tail thumped loudly against the wooden slats of the floor, and she had the odd impression that he was playing up the sad eyes in anticipation of being petted. She hoped he wasn’t too disappointed that she wasn’t brave enough to try it.
She dug through her things wedged in the trunk, pulling together an emergency kit and fitting it into a backpack; this she would keep with her at all times. She took most of her dirty clothes to wash inside—hopefully there was a washing machine—but left the businessy stuff with the other bags in the trunk. She had to have at least one set of clothes with her off-property stash. She’d run out one memorable night—after assassin two was gassed trying to cut her throat—in just her underwear and had to steal a neighbor’s coveralls out of the back of his work van. She’d learned that lesson. And to always sleep in pajamas that could double as daytime clothes.
Even with the cot, it was an easy load to take up the stairs. She went back for one of the duffel bags, this one containing her basic lab gear. She shouldn’t waste the downtime when she could be prepping. As she passed the master bedroom, she heard squabbling, and the sound made her happy to be out of the way of it.
The lab setup was a quick process after so much practice. One of her glass flasks was chipped, but it looked like it was still usable. She pieced her rotary evaporator together and then laid out a few condensers and two stainless-steel vessels. She’d used almost all of her Survive, and the way this week was going, she would probably need more. She had plenty of D-phenylalanine, but she was disappointed when she checked on her opioid store. Less than she’d thought. Not enough to synthesize more Survive, and she had only one dose left.
She was still scowling at her lack of supplies when she heard Kevin calling up the stairs.
“Hey, Oleander. Ticktock.”
By the time she got through the front door, Kevin was already in the sedan, Daniel in the passenger seat. When Kevin spotted her hesitating on the porch, he held the horn down for one annoyingly long blast. She walked as slowly as possible to the car and climbed into the backseat with a frown—dog hair was going to get all over her.
They drove along the same slender dirt lane out through the gate and a few miles farther before turning onto an even less pronounced road that headed in a mostly westerly direction. This road was nothing more than two tire tracks worn into the grass. They followed it for about six or seven miles, she guessed. For the first few miles, she caught glimpses of the ranch’s fence line, but after that, they were too far west for her to see it anymore.
“Is this your land, too?”
“Yes, after passing through a few other names. This parcel is owned by a corporation that is not affiliated in any way with the parcel the ranch is on. I do know how to do this, you know.”