The Isle Of Sin And Shadows - Keri Lake Page 0,89

bows and shakes her head, her eye contact throughout the entire exchange between them scarce, as if she’s afraid to tell him there’s no vacancy. Everyone seems to fear this man, for some reason. Earlier, I watched what looked to be a maintenance guy coming out of the second motel where we stopped, giving Thierry a wide berth as he strode up to the lobby. What is it about him they fear so much?

He emerges from the motel office, rubbing a hand down his face. Clearly frustrated, but in the very short time I’ve come to know the man, his emotions hardly bubble to the surface much. They remain deep and disturbingly calm.

Still waters run deep, Russ always said about those personality types. A warning, at the time, that I didn’t quite understand, but now it makes perfect sense.

The driver’s door swings open, and he climbs in beside me, slamming the door. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he leans back in his seat.

“Look, you tried. Just drop me off at my truck. I’ll camp outside of the car repair shop … or wherever it is ... for a couple nights.”

The prospect of that probably sounds ridiculous to a man like him, who undoubtedly sleeps in luxurious comfort every night. I was looking forward to it, back at the hotel, but I suppose fancy places just aren’t in the cards for a girl like me.

“I’m going to ask you a question, Carly. And you’re going to be completely honest with me.” Hooking his arm over the seat, he twists just enough to face me. “See, there is a place you can stay. A safe place, where no one will find you. But I need some assurances before I take you there, so we’re going to play a little game of show and tell.”

“I don’t like games.”

“Neither do I, so let’s stop playing them now. I’ll go first. The men who are after you are, in fact, members of a very dangerous cartel.”

“That you work for.”

“Ah-ah. You next.”

“Fine.” What to share, what to share. I hate that I have to be cautious around him. It reminds me of the days of talking to school counselors and therapists, and always having to stay one step ahead of them. I don’t know if I can trust this man entirely, at this point. “I’m not really that much of an outsider here.”

“To clarify, you’re from here originally?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You see? This is how it’s played.”

“Now you?”

“The man back at the hotel is an FBI agent. A shady one. And here’s a bonus: he’s after you, too.”

Triple blinking, I take a moment to process that. “I’m sorry, that one took me …. That one threw me off a little. Hang on.” How easily the man fit in with all the criminals during the card game earlier. And the way his gaze lingered on me far too long. Why? What would a dirty cop want with me, unless he knows who I was? And the only way he’d know, at this juncture, is if Brie told him, seeing as she’s the only one I’ve talked to. But that doesn’t make sense, either. None of this does.

I suppose asking Thierry won’t get me anywhere, unless I up the ante of my confession a little. “So, I tell you something more significant, you’ll tell me something more significant?”

“Now you’re catching on, chère.”

“Okay.”

Don’t do it, Cely. The warning in Russ’s voice gives me a momentary pause. Just enough for me to decide that I need more answers.

It’s possible that I don’t have a single friend in this place, besides the black wolf sitting beside me, and I’m only guessing he’s on my side, because he probably would’ve turned me over a long time ago, otherwise.

“My real name is Céleste. But that’s all I’m giving you. Just a first name.” There isn’t much he can do with that, seeing as there isn’t a single record that I was even born here. And hell, at this point, if he does manage to find something on me, I’ll be elated.

“Fair enough. For now, I’ll continue to use Miss James until I learn your last name. And I will.”

“Why not just call me Céleste?”

“I like formalities. They eliminate the need to--”

“Add a sense of feeling? Humanity?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re right. Human emotion is so messy. I mean, why pet a kitten when you can snap its neck, you know what I mean?”

“Why James as a last name?”

Admittedly, a small part of me wants to ask him if

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