Running Off Radar, page 6
“Well?”
“I thought he was a friend,” Rose said, looking away. After a few seconds she took a breath and held Maji’s waiting gaze. “First he tried some nonsense about this spark between us.”
Maji held her peace. Javier could easily have been attracted to Rose, even if unrequited, and projected his feelings on her. Rose might even have reciprocated. Who knew? It wasn’t her business unless it affected how Rose felt about her now. “And?”
“And I told him as gently but clearly as I could that I always saw him as a colleague and a friend, but not as more.” Rose paused, an internal argument playing behind her eyes. “Javi is bi and was always very open about who he found attractive, when we traveled together. He knows I generally prefer women but can sometimes be attracted to a man.”
“So he was honest with you and you reciprocated the trust. And if he wanted more than a working partnership, he didn’t tell you back then.” She took Rose’s hand. “Did he say why he suddenly wanted to be that lucky man?”
“He gave me a bullshit line about taking me for granted before and learning about the danger I was in last summer waking him up.” Rose squeezed her hand. “And about not wanting to hurt our professional relationship before. Which is when I knew for certain that he was lying.”
“So he has hit on you before.”
Rose shook her head. “Not so overtly. But he made it clear that if I ever became interested he’d reciprocate. Javi is serially monogamous and he likes intellectuals.”
“Handy for a grad student.”
Rose frowned. “I suppose. Anyway, he had the nerve to say he hadn’t taken me seriously before, but since all the news stories last summer, he had taken the time to read my work. And now suddenly I’m irresistible.”
Nodding, Maji gave her a sympathetic look. Rose would take the loss of trust in an old friend hard. “Any idea why he’s messing with you?”
Rose shook her head. “Really, I’m as baffled as I am hurt.”
“How invested are you in this afternoon’s panel sessions?”
“Not as much now as I should be. What do you have in mind?”
A return to their room flashed through Maji’s mind’s eye, and she swallowed hard. “Shopping. I still need clothes and other essentials.”
“Retail therapy.” A smile washed the last traces of regret from Rose’s expression. “I’d love to help.”
* * *
“There’s a tour at four,” Rose said as they left the conference center. “I do need to go on that.”
Maji nodded. “Cool. I’ll go with you.”
“Great,” Rose replied. A fleeting doubt tagged her heart and she stopped walking. “Is this surge of togetherness because you want to spend time with me or because you’re playing bodyguard again?”
Maji gave her that steady look Rose had come to realize meant she was weighing her words before speaking. “I don’t play at that. But I would have stayed at the conference with you and not minded. Also, I appreciate having your fashion input. Good taste and all.”
“I suppose you can’t wear my things all week.” Rose took her hand, glad that Maji was comfortable with the simple display of affection. “Where to first?”
An outdoor gear shop was not where Rose would have headed to look for clothing. But they did have running shoes to replace the stained pair on Maji’s feet. “How long since you’ve had a run?”
“For fun? Weeks.” Maji stood and walked in the new pair, then nested her old ones into the box. She gave it to the sales clerk to hold at the checkout counter for her.
Next Maji found socks, Carhartt jeans from the boys’ section, and a T-shirt she pulled off the clearance rack with less than thirty seconds’ consideration. “Be right back,” she said.
While Maji changed, Rose perused the collection of dozens of T-shirts by an artist who seemed to specialize in fish themes. Some were simply beautiful, others both artistic and humorous. She smiled to herself at the graphics, wondering which Maji would find amusing if she slowed down enough to look at them.
“You know Ray Troll?” the salesclerk asked, with an optimistic lilt to her voice.
Rose shook her head. “Afraid not. Quite the thing here I take it.”
“Oh, yeah. He’s from Ketchikan, but you can find his work all over the country. We have one of the largest collections.”
Maji’s reappearance saved Rose from having to admit that she’d never before shopped anywhere that fishing was a major pastime. Or industry, come to think. Eyeing the relaxed ensemble of denim and cotton, Rose had to admit Maji looked at home in her new clothes. Cute too. Not quite butch, but definitely tomboyish. Even the artwork of fish swimming upstream looked right on her. Rose swept her hand in a top-to-bottom motion. “Is this your natural habitat?”
Maji blushed. “Pretty much, yeah. We can get some nicer things next.”
“No complaints here.” Rose paused. “Though I do have some ideas, if you’ll indulge me.”
Maji’s mouth twitched at the corners. “Matching rain boots and jacket? I don’t think I can pull off the colors you brought, though. We’re different seasons and all.”
Rose itched to tickle her. And why shouldn’t she? They weren’t pretending anymore to be anything they weren’t. So instead of answering, she just stepped in and went for Maji’s sides. She might have a six-pack under that shirt, but it wouldn’t protect her from laughing.
“Hey,” Maji said, dancing back away from Rose’s teasing fingers. “No fair.”
But Rose pursued her until Maji spun her into the little dressing room and pressed her against the wall, her hands trapped by her sides. Playfulness turned to hunger at the feel of Maji’s body, and Rose met her mouth with an abandon that surprised her. She’d never made out spontaneously in a store. The semi-publicness made her both nervous and excited.
When she stepped back, Maji looked pleased and not nearly finished. “We indulge any more, they might call the cops.”
Rose nodded. “Let’s get whatever else is on your must list and beat it.”
They tracked down the clerk, who tried admirably not to blush as Maji had her cut the tags off her new clothing and bag up her old jeans and Rose’s top. At Maji’s request, Rose found a few pullovers that looked like they might fit and would complement her caramel complexion. As she carried them up to the checkout area, Rose wondered where Maji had been exposed to so much sun recently. The red had faded already, but like the scrapes on Maji’s back and leg, she imagined the conditions that caused it were harsh. Would she feel any better if she knew the details?
Maji met her at the checkout counter with a pack of socks, a box of Clif bars, more first aid supplies, and two items from the guns and ammo section of the store piled on top of a large box with the Xtratuf logo on it. She placed them all on the counter and tapped the box. “Will I need these on the tour?”
Rose nodded. “You might. If they’re too expensive, you can always stay on the trail in your sneakers.”
“Everything’s returnable if you don’t wear it,” the man ready to ring them up added.
“Cool,” Maji agreed, handing him a credit card.
While he scanned the first items and started filling the shopping bags, Maji tried on the tops Rose had selected. The first was too snug, so Rose set everything in that size aside. The next was baggy on Maji’s lean frame, a poor cut for her build. Being five four with virtually no fat and muscles that showed with every movement apparently had its fashion challenges.
“Angelo was better at this than I am,” Rose said and instantly regretted it. Last summer he had ordered Maji a whole wardrobe for playing the role of his girlfriend. Maji hadn’t tried any of it on, yet everything fit on arrival. How well he must have known her.
“All clothing is costume,” Maji said with a faraway look in her eye, more wistful than pained. She sighed. “He had a lot of practice. I didn’t mean to set you up. I’m sorry.”
Before Rose could argue, Maji disappeared down a nearby aisle, back into the young men’s section. She returned with four PolyPro pullovers in different colors, and held them up by her face for Rose’s approval. One went on with the tags removed, one into the bags, and the rest back on the racks.
They carried the box of tall rubber boots with heavy lug soles, and the bags with old clothes, new clothes, and miscellaneous gear back to the hotel. Rose had to walk briskly to keep up with Maji. “What’s the rush?”
Maji slowed. “Sorry. I need a few minutes in the suite and I don’t want to make us late for the tour.”
Rose consulted her watch. “We have an hour and a half.”
“I’ll try to make it quick then. I still need a running bra and I’d like underwear too. Plus,” she added as they entered the hotel lobby, “whatever idea you wanted indulged.”
Rose didn’t rise to the bait. If Maji indulged her again like she had in the changing room, they would miss the tour for sure. Letting them into the suite with her card key, she noted, “I’d better get my field clothes on too. Do you need a hand with something? New bandages?”
“Nope, thanks,” Maji replied, heading for the entryway closet after depositing her purchases on the couch.
Rose headed to the bedroom alone and changed into jeans and a turtleneck with a light sweater. Add the Xtratufs and rain jacket that she’d brought, and she’d be ready for woods, muskeg, and tideflats. The tour that the Sitka Tribe’s guides offered was promised to be tailored to the conference goers’ interests in local foods. Something none of them could get from the PowerPoint presentations and discussions in the meeting rooms.
The unpleasantly familiar scent of gun cleaning oil reached Rose even before she circled the little table in the living area of the suite. Maji was already reassembling her handgun from the pieces laid out on the towel in front of her. The sight and smell made Rose back away, then crack a window. She gulped in the fresh air.
Maji looked up, concern in her eyes. “Sorry. This was overdue. Not safe the way it was.”
“How safe is it now?” Rose asked, eyeing the cardboard box of ammunition. “You’re not going to wear it here, are you?”
Maji got up and went over to the kitchenette sink, washed her hands, and toweled them off without looking at Rose. “I’ll keep it out of sight. But since we don’t know what Javier’s really up to, and I don’t have any backup—yeah. I’m sorry.”
“You’ve started saying that too much again,” Rose noted. “I don’t want an apology—I want an explanation. Look at me, Maji.”
Maji turned so Rose could see her face, but it was unreadable. “I’m a professional. Keeping people safe is what I do. Can’t you just trust me on this?”
“I do trust you. With my body and my heart. But this is my life. If I need protection, I get a full say. None of this Don’t you worry your little head, ma’am crap. You hear me?”
“Hooah,” Maji breathed, looking pained. Did she really hear, understand, and agree? “Rose, the idea of you getting hurt, or worse, freaks me the hell out. Honestly, it’s easier to just not talk about it. The things I see when I go to sleep, those aren’t nightmares. They’re memories of real people enduring horrible things. I don’t think I could live with you in those images.”
Rose crossed the room to hold her. Maji didn’t protest. “I’m here now. And I’m fine. You know I can help if you just talk to me. What’s got you rattled?”
“Could be nothing, but I feel the storm coming.” Maji pulled back and held her hands, her eyes asking for understanding.
Rose nodded. “Just because Javi’s acting weird?”
“No. Because someone using a holding company to mask their identity sent him here to get close to you where they thought you weren’t under watch.”
“Under watch? You mean the way Hannah checks in? It’s hardly like I have a bodyguard at home.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that. I’ve tried to keep out of Hannah’s business where you’re concerned, but she did promise Angelo to keep you safe. She wouldn’t be intrusive about it, but she can’t do it by phone, either.”
Rose stared at her. “Why wouldn’t she say something?”
“If there was a threat, she would. Didn’t she give you instructions about Javi?”
Yes, she had. “My God. Do you think if you weren’t here, she’d have sent someone else?”
“That’s my best guess. Not that I asked.”
Hannah had seemed stressed when she couldn’t reach Maji. “What else are you making educated guesses about?”
“Well, Javi’s acting squirrelly and anxious.” That was true, Rose realized, despite the breezy front he put on. Maji looked hesitant to say more but responded to Rose’s expectant look. “Until we know who he’s answering to, we need to assume the worst.”
“Which means?”
“Sirko.”
Rose let go and turned away at the name of the man she blamed for all of her family’s tragedies. But…she turned back, crossing her arms across her middle. “Isn’t he broke? And in jail like the rest of them?” There were so many sweeps and arrests, she’d lost track.
“If you haven’t seen it on the cover of every major paper, no. It’ll be huge news. As for broke, I’m sure he’s hurting. But maybe not enough to keep him from revenge.”
The idea sounded much worse in specific terms, from a genuinely worried Maji, than it had in general terms when Hannah started their check-in calls. “But Javi would never work for someone like that.”
“Not knowingly, maybe. But think about last summer, and the kind of cunning and determination it took to keep coming after you then, on home turf even.”
“Because Angelo loved me.” Rose shook off the urge to blame herself. “But what is there to gain now?”
“Don’t underestimate revenge as a motivator,” Maji cautioned. She put a hand on Rose’s bicep and squeezed gently, just a hint of comfort. “Please let me take the gun. No one will know it’s there unless I have no other choice.”
“Hurry up and get changed,” Rose said. “We have one more store to squeeze in before the tour.”
Maji opened her mouth, then shut it. She nodded and gestured at Rose’s boots with a smile. “We’re gonna look like the Alaska equivalent of the urban cowboy, going shopping in our foulies.”
“Foulies?”
“Foul weather gear,” Maji said as she slipped off her running shoes and pulled on the boots and rain jacket. “At least it’s not all yellow.”
“Is that what you wear on Long Island Sound?” Rose asked, intentionally distracting herself from the firearm being tucked into the holster behind Maji’s back.
Maji grinned. “If you’re serious about sailing, yeah. Or you have too much money and you just want to look serious.”
Rose remembered watching Maji handle a little catamaran with skill. “You really enjoy sailing? We never talked about it before.”
“We didn’t talk about a lot of things.” Maji held the door for her with a flourish. “Ask me again over supper, and I’ll bore you with racing stories. Then you’ll know I’m a real sailor.”
Rose laughed. “Try and bore me. I dare you.”
* * *
Maji got the running bra and a pack of underwear as quickly as humanly possible. “So tell me your idea. Do we still have time?”
“Really it was just something nice for dinner out. A tailored shirt or maybe a cashmere sweater. And some earrings. That’s all.”
Maji spotted a boutique down the block. “If we had time I’d want to hit the local thrift shop, dink around awhile.” She took Rose by the hand. “But if we hurry, I bet we could get one thing nice enough for you to be seen with me tonight.”
Rose seemed inclined to protest, to defend her willingness to be seen with Maji no matter what, but stopped when faced with the wager. “You want a race to find one nice top that fits, for under a hundred dollars?”
“Yep. In this shop,” Maji answered, pointing at the threshold they had reached, “in ten minutes or less. Ready?”
Rose was through the door and scanning the racks before she even replied. “What do I win?”
“Whatever idea you want indulged.”
Rose flushed as a smile crept across her face. “Excuse me,” she called to the woman behind the counter in the back.
Twenty minutes later, they made their way arm in arm toward the conference center, hands free. “Nice of them to deliver to the hotel,” Maji said.
“Nice of you to offer such a generous tip,” Rose noted. “Are you rich now?”
Maji considered the question. “I have two homes to stay in and no rent. No debt. Hardly any stuff. And people always trying to feed me. Plus interest off what the IRS didn’t take as gift tax. So kind of, yeah. It’s weird.”
Rose gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s not fun? What about the Robin Hooding?” Angelo had arranged for the money he drained from the accounts of organized criminals—an estimated 3.4 trillion dollars—to be deposited into the accounts of millions of nonprofit organizations and ordinary people around the world. The money transfers weren’t traceable, so the IRS gave Americans a choice for their windfalls: donate to a tax-exempt organization or keep it and pay the hefty gift tax. Rose and Maji had each received five million, and Rose had given all of hers away. In March, Maji had indicated she was going to do the same, but more slowly.
“Frankly? It’s a bigger pain in the ass than I expected,” Maji confessed, feeling oddly vulnerable. “How’d you decide where to donate your bundle?”
“It was quite an exercise in self-examination, actually,” Rose replied. “Five million seemed like so much until I researched all the groups around the world doing work I feel strongly about.”
“Addressing hunger alone could have taken billions.” Maji chuckled. “’Course, I would go there.”
Rose rewarded her with another arm squeeze. “Angelo was right about the lottery game. It was an excellent test of character.”
