When the water runs cold, I wrap a towel around her, pat her dry, and wring the water from her hair. Taking more time, I brush out the long strands and dry them with the hairdryer. She watches me in the mirror with her lip caught between her teeth as I drop the towel from around my waist and walk to the bedroom. She follows quietly, clutching the towel between her breasts.
I take a clean bra and thong from the open suitcase on the floor and hand them to her. “We better get dressed.”
After finding clean clothes for myself, I pull on a pair of boxer shorts. Leaving her to get on with the task of dressing, I go to the lounge and pick up my jeans from the floor. I retrieve my phone from the pocket and read the alert. The tracer is tracking Wolfe’s movements. It’s set to send warnings at certain distances.
Cas leans in the doorframe, dressed in her underwear. She doesn’t ask. She waits.
“Get ready,” I say. “He’s less than an hour away.”
Chapter 14
Cas
My chest is tight as I pull on a pair of jeans and a green camo T-shirt while Ian checks what the bug has recorded via an app on his phone.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“It’s Mint who called Wolfe. His shop assistant used a spare key to unlock the door.”
I thought I knew fear after everything Ian had put me through. That doesn’t come close to the fear flowing like poison through my veins as I tie my sneakers.
Ian is tense. His movements are fluid but hurried as he drags a matching camo T-shirt over his head and fits a pair of jeans. While he pulls on his boots, I check the chamber of my gun and drop a couple of boxes of bullets into my backpack.
He does the same. After preparing his bag, he hands me two pills with a glass of water. I don’t need the pills, but I understand why he’s giving them to me. Precaution. When I’ve swallowed them, he zips open my backpack and drops the pills inside.
Giving the bag a pat after closing it, he says, “Let’s go.”
The order rushes in my ears. It pounds with my heart in my temples as I follow him to the lounge. We shovel down sandwiches and bananas while packing up and cleaning the cabin. No one will even know we’ve been here. Ian’s plan is to dump Wolfe’s body in the gorge where the vultures will pick it apart. The hyenas will take care of the bones. A shiver runs over me at the cold-blooded thought.
“Hey,” he says, touching my cheek. “It’s him or us.”
I want to say it’s not what I’m thinking, but he knows me well.
He pulls me closer and kisses my lips. “We’ll be fine.”
I try to smile. “I know.”
“If you have doubts about—”
“I don’t.”
It’s too late. We’ve come this far. I robbed Mint, and Wolfe is on his way.
Ian studies me for another moment. I don’t want him to regret involving me. This isn’t the time to be weak.
Squaring my shoulders, I say, “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Spearing his fingers through his hair, he walks to the window and stares out at nothing.
“Ian.”
He looks at me from over his shoulder.
“I’m ready,” I say again.
He gives a tight nod. The resigned look on his face says like me, he realizes it’s too late. We’re in this together. There’s only one way forward.
I take a bottle of water and my phone while he puts the tablet on the island counter and plays the recording we made last night. Our voices are loud. We’re arguing. The recording is fifteen minutes long and set to play on a continuous loop. We tested the sound last night to make sure our voices are audible through the closed windows and door.
The guard has already done his rounds this morning. He’s not coming back until tonight. There’s little chance he’ll hear the voices coming from inside the cabin.
I holster my gun and swing my backpack over my good shoulder. I can’t fit it onto my back yet. With the stitches, the strap bothers the wounds. Ian pushes his pistol into the back of his waistband, grabs his backpack, and goes outside ahead of me. I keep vigilant as he locks the door with the same tool he used to pick the lock. Taking care to walk on the grass so we don’t leave muddy shoe prints on the concrete path, we make our way to a cluster of macadamia trees behind the cabin.
He takes my backpack and lifts me into one of the trees. Head tilted back, he waits until I’ve climbed onto a branch obscured by the dense leaves before handing me the backpack. I sling it over one of the branches next to me. When I’m straddling the branch with my back braced against the trunk, he jogs toward the gorge to check the alarms. He set up motion detectors in a one-kilometer-radius. We’ll know when Wolfe is near.
I check my watch and count the minutes. It feels like an hour before he returns.
“All set,” he says quietly when he reaches the tree in which I’m hiding.
He chooses the tree closest to mine, grabs a branch, and pulls himself up. He’d cut some of the branches facing my hiding spot yesterday so I can see him if he needs to communicate with hand signals. From the outside perimeter, we’re hidden behind the leaves. He gives me a thumbs-up sign at which we both switch off our phones.
There’s nothing left to do but to wait. If everything goes as planned, Wolfe will come looking for us at the hideout we used when Ian was last in Rustenburg. Since Wolfe didn’t report us, only he and Hackman know about the cabin. It’s an obvious hiding place, too obvious, but we’re bargaining on Wolfe believing that’s why we’ll be here, because we think it too obvious for him to suspect we’ll use it again.
Sweat trickles between my shoulder blades and down my cleavage. The bark of the branch digs into my ass. Keeping my balance is tricky. After a few minutes, my muscles cramp. I move a little. The branches rustle. Ian holds his finger to his lips, motioning for me to be quiet.
A line of ants march along the side of the branch. Some of them venture off their path, climbing over my leg. A stinging pinch nips me in the side. The burn makes me gasp. I swat at the cause of the pain, almost toppling to the ground. Gripping the trunk behind me, I manage to balance myself. When I’m certain I won’t fall, I lift the hem of my shirt. My skin sports a red mark. An ant bite.
As I’m inspecting the cause of the sting, another ant makes it past the waistband of my jeans. I flick it off.
Ian gives me a worried look. He mouths, “What?”
I shake my head, indicating I’m fine.
Another ant bites just as Ian checks his phone and holds up a finger.
Shit.
That’s the signal. Wolfe just set off the alarm. He’s one kilometer away.
I brush off the ants, using one hand to grip the branch above me for balance. The leaves shake and swish. I’m making noise, but I better get rid of the little buggers before Wolfe is close enough to notice the disturbance in the tree.
Pulling myself up with one arm, I sweep my feet over the branch to kick off as many of the ants as I can. When I don’t spot any more, I settle back down on my perch. A few leaves flitter to the ground as my movement shakes the branches around me. I follow Ian’s example, taking my gun from my holster and flicking off the safety. Finally, the leaves and twigs still.