Play Nice (10 page)

“Who knows that you’re still alive?”

She shrugged. “Up until today, I didn’t think anyone did.” Which was the truth. For fifteen years she’d looked over her shoulder every day, but no one had ever appeared there. It had almost been long enough to become comfortable with the idea that she really had pulled one over on the KOS.

Almost.

“You haven’t had any contact with anyone from your former life since then? Friends? Family?”

She shook her head. “I grew up in the KOS. I didn’t have friends or family.”

“Could it be someone current, then?” he asked. “Someone who has a grudge against you as Anna?”

She let out a bark of laughter, though there was no humor behind it. “You’re kidding, right? I’m a glorified dog washer. I’m not exactly pushing people’s buttons.”

He nodded. “So whoever is after you is after Anya.”

“So it would seem.”

“Did you have enemies?”

She shook her head. “I was an assassin. It’s not exactly a friendly profession.” She paused. “As you well know.”

He ignored the comment, instead asking, “Anyone in particular seem unfriendly?”

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back, calling up memories she’d just as soon forget. “I don’t know. I don’t remember their names. As soon as I closed the file, I blocked them out.” She opened them again, trained them on his. “Besides, they’re all dead.”

It was a hollow statement of fact, and it disturbed her just how easily she said it.

“What about the people you worked with. Who trained you?”

“I told you. The KOS.”

“A name.”

“Goren Petrovich was my handler,” she said, finding the words tasted odd in her own mouth after so many years. “But he’s dead.”

“What about the others? The ones who supplied your targets?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like I could keep in touch after I left. Besides, most of those people didn’t officially even exist then; it’s hard to know if they do now.”

Even as she said it, she couldn’t help wondering. She’d asked the same thing hundreds of times herself. Once the Yugoslavian government had collapsed, everything she had ever known had fallen apart. She’d been lucky to get out when she had. Some of her counterparts hadn’t been so fortunate, ending up taking the fall for the people who issued their orders, the real hands on the triggers. Not that she’d known any of them personally at the time. They’d all been as nameless as she was. Anonymous, interchangeable agents that the government had churned out like clones, putting them into service as long as they stayed useful, making sure no trace was left behind once that usefulness ran its course.

As if he could read her thoughts, Dade asked, “Who else did you work with?”

She pursed her lips together, forcing her thoughts backward in time. “There was another agent I worked with a couple times. Peter. I never knew his last name. And a doctor I saw once. Mishakeal.”

“Anyone else?”

She realized what he was doing. He was fishing for a name that sounded familiar, a link between her and his contact.

“Who hired you?” she asked, turning the tables on him.

He gave her a hard look. But said nothing.

“So, I’m supposed to trust you with my life story when you give me nothing in return?”

He shrugged, his shoulders lifting ever so slightly. “I have the gun.”

For now
.

“Look, I did a lot of bad things to bad people with bad tempers,” she admitted. “I have no idea where any of them are now or who might have been the most angry. It was fifteen years ago, for God’s sake.”

“Fine.” He drew in a deep breath. “Then tell me this: Who could have found you here?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She paused. “How did your employer find me?”

Predictably, he ignored the question about himself again. “Tell me about your friends.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Boyfriends?”

“No.”

“Your neighbors.”

She swallowed down the sudden raw memory of Mrs. Olivia’s body, twisted under itself on the cold floor of her apartment.

“I wasn’t close with anyone. I only knew them to say hello.”

“How long have you lived there.”

“Almost four months.”

“Who have you—”

“Look, there’s no one, okay?” she cut in. His game of twenty questions wasn’t doing her any good. He was giving her nothing, and she was spilling everything in return. Not something she’d intended to do, but somehow once she opened her memory a crack, the truth was hard to contain again. “I don’t spend time with anyone, I don’t talk to anyone, I don’t engage with anyone. I’m not that stupid.”

But even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t entirely true. As careful as she’d been, she must have messed up somewhere. Or else they wouldn’t be there now.

“What about your coworker?” Dade asked. “The redhead.”

“Shelli? What about her?”

“How well do you know her?”

Anna shook her head. “Shelli’s harmless.”

She felt his eyes narrow behind his shades again. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I know her well enough to know that she’s harmless, okay?”

“How long have you two been friends?”

“We’re coworkers, not friends. I told you I don’t have friends,” she corrected. “And she was hired on a couple months after I was.”

Dade stiffened, his posture shifting to attention. “
After
you were?”

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “But that doesn’t mean—”

“Where did she work before that?” he asked, cutting her off.

“I … I don’t know. Why is it important?” But even as she asked the question her mind jumped on the same track as Dade’s. Someone had been watching her. They had put together the pieces linking her painfully nonexistent life now to the one she’d left in flames then. Had Shelli been planted to gather those pieces? She’d never seemed anything but casually interested in Anna’s life. She’d never pried beyond friendly inquiries into Anna’s past, her social life. At least, they’d seemed friendly enough at the time …

“Where does Shelli live?” Dade asked, breaking her out of her own sudden suspicions.

“A place in the lower Haight.”

“You’ve been to her house?”

“Not inside, but, yeah, I dropped her off at her apartment one day when the busses were down.”

“I thought you said you weren’t friends?”

“We’re not. I just gave her a ride. That’s all.”

“Does she know where you live?”

Anna opened her mouth to respond in the negative, paused mid-thought, then shut it. “Maybe.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow her way.

“I never gave out my address,” she explained. “But I guess it’s possible she could have looked up my employment info. My checks had to be mailed somewhere.”

“Did you ever meet any of her friends? Relatives? Anyone who knew her ever drop by the shelter?”

She slowly shook her head, feeling the sickening suspicion build. She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t want to believe that the first person she’d even been casually friendly with in fifteen years might turn out to want her dead.

Shelli had seemed genuinely scared when she’d been crouching under the desk at the shelter. But if she’d been playing Anna since they’d met, was it really a stretch that she’d been playing at scared this morning, too?

Her questions must have shone in her eyes as Dade nodded, resolution clear in the straight line of his shoulders.

“We start with Shelli.”

*   *   *

They rode the rest of the trip in silence, the boat slowing as they rounded Alcatraz, causing tourists once again to flock to the railing with their cameras as the captain detailed some of the island’s most infamous inhabitants. Al Capone, The Birdman of Alcatraz, George “Machine Gun” Kelly, the prohibition gangster. Anna only halfway listened, lost in her own thoughts. By the time they hit dry land again, she was antsy, tired of standing still, and ready to move.

Once again, Anna watched Dade’s eyes scan the people at the dock as the boat pulled back into its slip. He slowly assessed each body leaning against the wooden railing above them, checking for weapons, for anything out of place, anyone too interested in the inhabitants of the boat as it docked beside the pier.

As far as Anna could tell, only the same sea of pleasure seekers stared back at them, benign, harmless, one face blending into the next. Whoever was after her, they hadn’t followed Anna to the pier.

“Let’s go,” Dade commanded, his hand again on Anna’s arm as the crowd of people surged toward the back of the boat. He guided her through them, up the gangplank and the short flight of stairs leading back up to the pier.

She let him lead her as far as the brightly colored carousel again, located at the widest point of the pier, still tinkling an overly cheery tune, before the urge to move overwhelmed her.

It’s now or never, Anya.

She deliberately halted her pace, jolting Dade backward.

“Ohmigod, it’s them,” she said, letting very real fear taint her own voice.

Dade’s hand shot down to his waistband, hovering over the hidden butt of his gun. “Where?” he asked, his voice sharp and clipped, easily slipping into combat mode.

“There.” Anna pointed toward a corner shop hidden in the midday shadows. “Just behind the candy store. I saw a gun muzzle.”

Dade took his sunglasses off, squinting into the darkened corner.

Which was exactly what Anna had hoped he would do.

In a second she had her hidden perfume packet out of her pocket, ripped open with her teeth, and pointed directly at Dade’s face.

She squeezed, watching a sharp spray of fake Chanel No. 5 hit his eyes.

“Sonofabitch!” His hands immediately went to his face, his grip on her arm gone.

And Anna ran.

CHAPTER 7

Anna took off at a full sprint, weaving through tourists. She knocked into shopping bags, jostling past strollers, tripped over feet, both her own and those of the people she shoved out of the way. She could feel Dade behind her, panic spurring her forward.

The perfume must have stung like a bitch, but she knew it wouldn’t phase him for long. It was a single moment of surprise, one she knew she had to take every advantage of quickly, putting as much distance between them as she could. He was taller, stronger. He’d be on her in a second.

As if to confirm her thoughts, footsteps fell behind her, loudly, hammering down on the wooden planks like ominous thunder. Gaining on her, gobbling up her advantage much faster than she’d hoped.

Pushing her to run faster.

She passed a row of take-out stands, the scents of chowder, raw fish, and fried calamari filling her nostrils as her breath came faster and faster. Her limbs pumped, her eyes darting ahead, calculating her next move—weave to the right to avoid the woman in the backpack, swerve left so you don’t knock over that toddler, move around the double stroller and don’t trip on the wheels. She knocked into a woman, jostling her purse to the ground, hit a guy in khakis with a camera in hand. They were slowing her down.

She could only hope they were slowing Dade as well.

The pier was a long structure with only one way in and one way out. While there were plenty of nooks and crannies between the shops to hide in, hiding was all she could do there. She’d be stuck, waiting for him to find her. It was possible she could outrun him to the end of the pier, but then what? She knew he’d easily catch up to her before she could get to Lenny. And, as he well knew, there was no way she was leaving him behind.

No, she couldn’t outrun Dade.

But she could outsmart him.

She quickly jagged left, darting through the maze of wooden shops lined up two stories high along the water. She ran around the back side of the stores, between the wooden buildings and the frigid Bay lapping at the wooden pylons. There were fewer people here, fewer obstacles between her and her destination.

She pushed on past three more shops, then took a wooden staircase leading to the second level of stores and attractions on the east side of the pier. She heard Dade rounding the back of the stores behind her, knew he spotted her on the stairs. It wouldn’t take long before he was on top of her. She had thirty seconds. A minute, tops. She needed to hide, to lose him somewhere. And ahead of her was the perfect place—the entrance to the Infinite Mirror Maze.

Anna had been in once before, when the attraction had first opened, curious to see if it was really as difficult to navigate as the review in the
SF Gate
had hailed it. To her delight, it had been. Room after room of floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflecting dozens of images of herself from every direction, obscuring the exit in a challenge that she’d thoroughly enjoyed at the time. On that visit, Anna had been issued a pair of vinyl gloves in order to touch the mirrors in front of her to find her way out. Only today Anna had no time to wait in line, no time to pay, and no time to worry about putting on gloves.