Blood Trust - Eric van Lustbader [78]
“Yes.”
“What’s your interest in this?”
“I’m a woman.”
Naomi shook her head. “Please don’t mistake me for an idiot.”
Annika smiled coolly. “My interest is in Jack.”
“You betrayed him.”
“Whether I did or not is no concern of yours.”
“Jack is my friend.”
Annika’s smile turned icy. “Oh, I can see that quite clearly.”
Naomi looked away, stared at her hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t see how I can trust you.”
Annika wiped the corners of the poodle’s eyes. “I imagine that depends on how badly you want to find Mbreti.”
Naomi tried to make sense of the buzzing in her mind. “I want Mbreti.” She lifted her gaze, but found it difficult to stare into those extraordinary eyes without feeling intimidated, worse, somehow diminished. “What do you know about him?”
Annika appeared to consider this for some time. Then she nodded. She waggled the barrel of the .25. “I’ll tell you as you drive.”
Naomi fired the ignition and turned the wheel, checking traffic. When she pulled out onto the avenue, she said, “I drive better without a gun in my face.”
Annika smiled and put the gun down beside the poodle. “What did Jack tell you about me?”
“Enough to know that you can’t be trusted.”
“No one can be trusted, Naomi. Not in our world.” She kept the enigmatic smile on her face. “Turn right here, then make the next left, then left again.”
“The directions make no sense.”
“I want to make certain we’re not being followed.”
Naomi glanced in the rearview mirror. “Who would be following us?”
“Peter McKinsey, for one.”
Naomi took some time digesting this comment. Ever since she had recognized Annika Dementieva she had felt like Alice down the rabbit hole. “And if you go chasing rabbits, And you know you’re going to fall…” Grace Slick sang in her mind. And then the dormouse’s final warning, like the ominous tolling of a bell: Keep your head.
Without missing a beat, Annika said, “How is Alli?”
“You know Alli?” Stupid. Of course, Annika had met Jack in Moscow, had traveled with him and Alli to the Ukraine.
Annika’s smile spread like melting butter. “Better than you do, my dear.”
A shiver went through the pit of Naomi’s stomach. Annika might be lying—in fact, she probably was—but the thought that she might, indeed, know Alli so well gave Naomi the willies. That poor girl, she thought. All she has is Jack now, and that overbearing and thoroughly repugnant uncle. How awful if this lying murderer gets added to the mix.
“Alli is with Jack,” Naomi said, more defensively than she had intended, “where she belongs.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Annika was staring straight ahead. “And where would that be?”
Naomi made no response.
“Now that we’re in Georgetown,” Annika said, “you should know where to go.”
Naomi glanced at her for a moment, then headed down toward the water.
“You saw me follow Pete yesterday.”
“I’m sure you saw him get into the boat.”
“Roosevelt Island?”
“It’s wilderness out there.” Annika pointed to the parking area of a building beside Tidewater Lock. “An excellent place for a rendezvous.” That smile again as Naomi pulled into a slot. “And secrets.”
* * *
FOR SOME time, Thatë watched the crew members playing poker in the rear lounge, but his mind was elsewhere. He was remembering in perfect detail Alli defeating Dennis Paull not once, but three times. He liked the way she moved, like a ghost or a drift of smoke. He’d never seen anyone fight like that—the sudden whirlwind moves fascinated him. Or maybe it was Alli herself who fascinated him.
He cleared his throat, got up, and asked for a pillow and a blanket. One of the crew members put down his cards and opened an overhead compartment. The entire crew watched him while he pulled down what he wanted. He lay down across a row of seats some distance from them, pulled the blanket over him, and set his head on the pillow.
He drifted on and off for perhaps an hour or so. When he opened his eyes, he saw a crewman sitting across the aisle, watching him. A handgun lay in his lap. He gripped it as Thatë sat up.
“I need