Assassin's Promise, The Red Team Series, Book 5 (16 page)

The big blond guy sat next to her. Val, wasn’t he? “Doc,” he greeted her with a nod, then he leaned forward, looking around her to Greer. “It’s so nice you have a playmate, G.”

Greer chuckled, then blew a low whistle. “Unfortunate choice of words. I think I’ll just sit back and watch her rip your head off.”

Val arched a tawny brow as his Caribbean-blue gaze homed in on her mouth. “Oh?”

Selena joined them, a welcome tornado scattering the male bravado. “Give the professor a break. This is her first day with us.” She set her plate on the table and took a seat next to Greer. “Doc, you’re welcome to put them in their place or walk away.”

“I take exception to that, Sel.” Greer set a hand on his heart. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

Selena looked to her for confirmation. Remi met her guard’s cinnamon eyes. Greer had been polite…but so demanding in bed. Remi felt her face flush. Val burst out laughing.
 

It was a huge relief when they were called into the after-lunch meeting. Lion and Max were absent, but Selena was present. Kit leaned against the front of a large desk. The other guys stood or sat on various pieces of furniture around the room. Owen leaned against the bookshelf behind the desk, his arms folded and feet slightly spread.
 

Remi glanced at Greer who was next to her, his face carefully blank. Looked as if this would be a short meeting…and everyone but she knew its agenda.

* * *

Greer met Remi’s nervous glance. He wondered how he would be handling things, were their situations reversed. His reaction to being dropped into the middle of all of this wouldn’t be as calm as hers—especially if it impacted his career as it had the potential to hit hers.
 

“Kit,” Selena said, breaking the room’s silence. “Lion mentioned a tithe he said the young adults of the Friendship Community do on behalf of the community. I don’t remember hearing him say anything about that in the meeting this morning.”

“He didn’t.” Kit looked at Remi. “Do you know anything about it?”
 

“Tithing has never come up in my interviews.” She shook her head. “It is interesting that it’s something common enough Lion would casually mention it, and yet absolutely none of the women I spoke to ever brought it up.”
 

“Well, that’s one more thing to figure out on your visit with the Friends. Are you ready to get out there? We have the things you requested.” He nodded over at a few wooden crates full of goods the community would use that it couldn’t generate itself: needles, pins, scissors, spools of thread, bolts of undyed cotton, pencils.

“Remi and I need a word with you before we head out,” Greer said, looking at Owen and Kit.

“Get these crates loaded up in Dr. Chase’s car,” Kit ordered. When the room emptied, he looked at Greer expectantly.

“Remi has a week before she has to be back at the university.”

Kit nodded. “Let’s make it count.”

“If things aren’t stabilized by the time she has to go back, I want her to stay here and commute to work.”

Kit checked with Owen. “S’cool. I appreciate your help, professor. If you need Owen to have a chat with your people, we can make that happen.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Won’t they be worried if you just disappear for a while?”

Remi glanced at each of them, ending with Greer. “I let my department head know I would be visiting friends. I think it’s best if they don’t know I’m working with you.”

“Why?” Owen said.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had someone come after me during a research project. Cults are closed and secretive for a reason. They like to keep it that way.”

“I’m talking about telling your employer where you are, what you’re doing, and that you’re safe.”

She hesitated. She didn’t want to accuse her boss or assistant with something she couldn’t prove. “I think I’m safer if they’re not involved.” She looked at Greer. “You are, too.”

“You saying someone on your staff can’t be trusted?” He asked.

Remi’s lips thinned. “I have no proof. For now, no one has to be told anything. Let’s leave it at that. Besides, the provost made it perfectly clear that I’m not to continue my research with the Friends. If you call them, they could well terminate my contract early.”

Kit exchanged a glance with Owen. “All right. Let’s try to get this wrapped up in a week.”

Remi stood at the open hatch door of her car, her hand on one of the bolts of fabric, her mind lost in contemplation. Greer opened the tiny envelope Kit had given him and spilled its contents onto his palm. Two simple gold wedding bands lay against each other, shimmering in the sun. He picked up Remi’s band. It was tiny.
 

Props, that was all, for a pseudo marriage. Probably the only way he’d ever have a wife.

“You got everything you need?” he asked. She nodded. “Then give me your hand.”

Her brows lowered. “Why?”

“’Cause I’m gonna put a ring on your finger.” He couldn’t hold back his grin. Shouldn’t make him so happy to have a fake wife. He slipped the narrow band down her finger, then made the mistake of looking into her eyes. He caught the flash of panic that sharpened her gaze before she could hide it.
 

He ground his teeth. “It’s just a ring, Remi. A prop for the next few days. It has no meaning beyond that.” He shoved the larger, wider band on his left ring finger. It felt foreign and constricting and warm. “There anything else you need from the house?”

She shook her head.
 

“Then let’s get this show on the road.”

She held her hand out. “Keys. I’ll drive
my
car.”

He set them in her hand without hesitation and went around to the passenger side.

* * *

Remi’s heart drummed in her painfully constricted chest. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. She looked at the wedding ring choking her finger. In fact, it was hard to stay focused on the road with that gold band glinting in the sun.
 

The road twisted around some hairpin curves. When it straightened out, she pulled off onto a scenic overlook. After putting the car in park, she got out and walked over to the half-wall, slipping the ring off her finger.

Greer followed her. Wind came up the cliff and over the wall, lifting her hair. She brushed it aside. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Wear this ring. Pretend to be married. I’m never going to marry. Anyone who knows me knows that.”

“How well do the Friends know you?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I get it. You like your independence. I do, too. But we don’t have the luxury of indulging our fears right now. Something bigger than us is in play, and we need to figure out what it is.”

“I’m fine with that. I’m okay with helping you. Just not as a married couple.”

“If we don’t go in married, I can’t guarantee they keep us together. We need this so that I can protect you. It’s very easy for people to quietly disappear. And we already know that’s something they do. They’ve managed to lose a large portion of their youth.”

Remi closed her eyes. “It’s just a ring.”

“Yeah. It’s just a ring. You could wear it on your pinkie or in your nose, for all the significance it has to you and me. To the Friends, however, it means something entirely different.” He held out his hand. “Give me your ring.”
 

She set it in his palm.

He took the ring and turned it over a couple of times, then lifted her hand and put it on her ring finger again. “Why are you never getting married?”

She hated the feel of the ring on her hand. Hated that he always asked the worst questions. “Because I don’t want to.”

“What if you find the right guy?” His cinnamon eyes caught hers. His interest seemed legit, not more of the profiling she suspected he’d been doing since the beginning.

“I won’t. Know why?” she asked. He lifted a brow. “Because I’m not looking.”

“Not looking? Or hiding from the possibility?”

“Why do you think marriage is so important? It isn’t everything.”

“I never said I thought marriage was everything. You’re scared of something, and I’m trying to figure out what it is.”

“It’s none of your business. Haven’t you been scared of anything before?”

His voice was a whisper. “Only ghosts. Only that.” She had to strain to hear it above the wind buffeting the overlook.
 

Remi pressed her lips together. “We better get going.”

Chapter Fifteen

Remi parked in the small dirt patch set aside for visitors a half-mile off the county road. The Friendship Community village was still another half-mile away, reached by a narrow buggy trail through a forest of aspen and ancient evergreens.
 

Greer looked around the parking area, noticing the treads from different motorcycles. He didn’t mention it to Remi—she was tense enough as it was.

A bell began ringing before they were even in sight of the village. It had the sound of an old ranch bell hand-rung by someone. When they came out of the woods, the village was alive with kids and a few adults who were coming to greet them.
 

Greer had observed the village for several days, but watching it from afar and entering it were entirely different experiences. It was like walking back through time. The kids that surrounded them were white, with flushed faces and happy eyes. They wore the simple clothes of their people—homespun cotton shirts, trousers, skirts. Both boys and girls wore black boots with heavy socks.
 

Greer looked over at Remi to see her reaction to the kids. She had an easy smile on her face, but her tension showed when she looked at the adults. One of the women smiled at her, then gave him a curious once-over.
 

“Dr. Chase! How happy we are to see you!” the woman said as she shook Remi’s hand vigorously.
 

Remi exchanged greetings then introduced Greer to Mrs. Dunbar and the Haskels. “Mrs. Dunbar’s husband is the village’s mayor. And the Haskels both serve on the town council,” she told him.

“You’re married? We didn’t know that was in the works for you!” the first woman, Mrs. Haskel, exclaimed.

“Yes.” She laughed like acting was first nature to her. “He talked me into it at last.”

“That’s wonderful! But you didn’t take your husband’s name?” Mrs. Dunbar asked.

Remi looked over at him, then shook her head. “I’ve established my professional reputation under my maiden name. We thought it best if I kept it.”

Mrs. Haskel shook her head in a disapproving way. “Things are very strange in your world.”

“Speaking of which, how is your article coming along?” Mrs. Dunbar asked.

“That’s why we’re here. I was hoping to wrap up my research by spending a little more time with you, if that wouldn’t be too much of an imposition.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Dunbar answered for the group. “You know we’ve been looking forward to more visits with you.”

“Thank you! I’ve been compiling my notes from our conversations and have a few more questions and things I’d like to have clarified.”

Mrs. Haskel slipped her arms through Greer and Remi’s and led them deeper into the village. She leaned over to Remi and whispered loudly, “Your husband’s quite the beefcake.”

Remi’s blush made Greer laugh.

Mrs. Haskel squeezed Remi’s arm. “Ask anything. You know we’re proud of our community. I wish there were more like ours in the world.” She gave Remi a sad look. “Every time we travel into Cheyenne for our market days, we learn such stories about murders and war and drugs and terrible things in your society. It’s reinforcing our mission here in our own community. I think we’re all excited for our story to be told.”

Greer knew Max was hearing and seeing all of this from his magic sunglasses and comm unit. It wasn’t the fearful greeting of a community who had anything to hide…which didn’t necessarily mean they didn’t have anything to hide, only that they were good at hiding it.

“You’ll stay overnight, won’t you? I’d hate for you to make the long trek here and back all in one day,” Mrs. Dunbar said.

Remi looked at him, then answered. “We’d love to. Thank you.”

“That’s settled, then,” Mrs. Haskel declared. “We have bread rising that we have to tend to. Our husbands can retrieve your things and get you settled in the guest cabin where you stayed last time. You come with us, dear. Ask us your questions while we work.”

Greer looked to see if that suggestion caused Remi any concern. He took her hands and bent to kiss her cheek. “You okay with that?” he asked. When she nodded, he whispered a reminder about her alarm necklace.
 

Remi followed the women to Mrs. Dunbar’s cabin, one of the larger ones in the immediate area. In the community, when a family had a lot of kids of both genders, the council permitted them to build additions that gave their daughters a separate sleeping space from their sons. And though the Dunbars’ children were grown with families of their own, they remained in the large house because of their status in the community. The extra rooms were sometimes used for closed council meetings.

Mrs. Haskel directed Remi to a Windsor chair at the desk. A breeze filtered in from the open, screenless windows. The women put fresh aprons on, then washed their hands and turned out bowls of rising dough to be kneaded.
 

“Now you just go ahead with your questions,” Mrs. Dunbar directed.

Remi pulled her notebook out of her laptop bag and opened it to a blank page. “We’ve spoken before about other groups similar in some ways to the Friends. In particular, about the Amish.”

“Yes, I remember,” Mrs. Haskel said without looking up from her dough.

“They have an event or activity called
Rumspringa
. It’s a period of time where the youth in the Amish communities experience the outside world and then decide to stay in that world or return and commit their lives to their community. Do the Friends’ youth participate in something similar?”

Mrs. Dunbar was using a great deal of force with the dough she was working. Mrs. Haskel said nothing, letting the mayor’s wife answer for them.