Untrained Eye (7 page)

Chapter 9

THE NEXT MORNING, I bounced over to the main offices of CIG,
casting a happy wave at the lady behind the desk. She gave me a look that said,
“I ain’t got a clue who you are so why you waving at me?”

I widened my smile, answering her look with my best, “why do you
have to know me? It’s a beautiful day.”

She didn’t seem full of the joys and eyed me like I might kidnap
her.

“Is the boss in?” I asked, not caring that she was glaring at me.

“You mean General Frei?” A bit hoity-toity but I’d go with it.

“Yeah, the one with the blonde spiky hair and the coolest shades
you’ve ever seen.”

Now she was curious. Funny how I could still read her body
language even when I couldn’t read her emotions. “Do you have an appointment?”

You’d think the CIG uniform would have given her a clue. “I don’t
need one. She in or not?”

“Look, I think you’ll have to—”

“Lorelei,” I grunted. “You want to see my birth certificate or
what?” I pointed to my face. “You can’t miss the resemblance.”

The woman eyed me for a moment and two guards appeared behind me.
A second later Frei strode down a staircase off to the left.

“You got the bikes ready?” she asked the receptionist, ignoring
the fact the guards looked about ready to haul me off someplace.

If they thought they were getting me anywhere near a cell, they
were gonna find it painful trying.

“She’s Lilia’s daughter.” Frei’s curt tone made everybody relax,
apart from me. “Bikes?”

The receptionist cocked her head then shook it like I was some
naughty child. “Yes, they are outside. Try wearing your name badge next time.”

I scowled down at her. “I told you my name.”

“Then try writing your mother’s name on it. At least it would be
useful then.” She flicked her hair back as if to say, “deal with it.”

Like I was putting up with that. “You mean like you, sitting
punching numbers into a computer all day?”

Frei shoved me by the arm out of the door. “You have a great way
of making friends.”

“She started it.”

“She’s a Harvard graduate with three degrees, math, medical
sciences, and engineering.” Frei strode on down the road. I followed after her.
“She lost both legs in an automobile accident and her own promising military
career.” She rounded a corner, leading us down an alley. “She also lost her
husband in the same accident.”

Okay, so I wasn’t so mad at her anymore. “All I did was grin at
her and say hi.”

“And I’m saying that you could have gone in there with a million
dollars and chocolate but she would still act the same.” Frei led us over to
two very cool-looking motorcycles. “You’re not going to win the bitch of the
year contest with her. She’s had fifteen years to perfect it.”

“You tried?”

Frei shot me a grin, sliding on her trademark aviators. “One
competition I was happy to lose.”

She tapped the bikes. “These are Harley Davidson Breakouts. Pure
perfection on wheels. A twin cam 110B engine. An Electronic Sequential Port
Fuel Injection and Electronic Throttle Control. It has a 6-speed Cruise Drive
transition.”

She’d lost me. To me it looked like a cool bike, big black with
chrome on it.

“It’s a soft tail,” she said as if that would clear things up.

It didn’t. I couldn’t even see a tail.

“In other words, it rides like it looks.”

Why that made me drool, I had no idea.

“Good, you’re with me.” Frei slung her leg over one and slipped on
her full face helmet. She pulled a leather jacket from the seat behind her and
slid it on. “You getting on or drooling at me, Lorelei.”

“Kinda a bit of both,” I mumbled, attempting to get on the second
bike with some kind of grace. I’d ridden dirt bikes before but never anything
like this. Frei handed me a helmet and tapped the seat behind me to alert me to
the leather jacket.

“Am I getting lessons in how to look cool or somethin’?”

Frei pressed the side of her helmet and the glass slid up. “You’re
getting lessons in how to ride. Both cold and hot weather. We’ll head out down
the mountain so you can learn to handle any condition.” She held my gaze with
an unyielding one. “You know bikes pretty well. You look better on a bike. So
this week, I’m teaching you how to act like you look.”

“Which is?”

Frei pressed the button again and her visor slid back down.
“Badass, Lorelei. Badass.”

I heard her voice in my ear and jumped. It was crackly just like
when Renee had talked to me on the helicopter. I listened as she ran me through
how to ride the thing. A dirt bike didn’t have this kind of power. I turned the
key and felt it rumble into life.

I was in love.

“You’ll thank me even more when we hit the open road.” Frei led us
out of the parking lot and onto the street. Folks cast admiring glances as we
roared past. I made the decision that I could get used to travelling on a bike
everywhere
.

“How come Renee ain’t with us?” I asked. When we did anything, it
was the three of us.

“She doesn’t like bikes.”

“This another of those perspective things again?”

Frei kept alongside me. It felt kinda good to know she was taking
the time out to help me. She was head of the whole base, a general, she had
better things to do.

“Renee gets freaked out. If she catches you riding one, she’ll
more than likely lecture you.” Frei’s bored tone told me that Renee had
lectured her a fair amount.

“Why does that make me like it even more?” I asked. It was a dumb
reaction, I was sure. A rebellion maybe, I didn’t know.

“Because you get it.” Frei roared her bike as we left the main
drag. I opened the throttle, rumbling off after her. “When you’re on the road,
you’re free.”

I’d not felt like this since I was a kid. Free. I did get that.

Yeah, free.

Chapter 10

THE CEILING FAN whirred overhead with lazy long swoops of the wide
blades. The ceiling was dark wood slats reminding Renee of a sauna as she
stared up at it from her position in the booth. A dimly lit sauna where people
were dressed and they had alcohol.

She giggled. Maybe she was a little bit under the influence of
said liquor.

It was Ewan Fitzpatrick’s fault. Yup. He was one of the team in
the investigative arm of CIG. A fine agent, a big jock, with a smooth Texan
twang. At least sometimes. In fact, she didn’t know where he was from
originally but she doubted it was Texas. The wonders of working incognito.

Anyway, the lug was responsible for dragging her sorry butt into
the slatted, sauna-esque dive of a bar that the CIG lovingly called Dusty’s.

Boy, they were so original.

“Renee, you want another?” Fitzpatrick asked.

Renee dropped her head downward to focus on him. Why he was all
wavy she didn’t know but it gave her the hiccups.

“Why not?”

Fitzpatrick shot her a dashing grin. It was the same old routine.
He’d try and get her drunk enough to find him attractive and they’d both wind
up asleep in the booth they sat in. They could have changed it up a bit, you
know, like sit in another booth but why bother.

It was too hot to bother.

Fitzpatrick staggered off to the bar. Renee felt a breeze tickle
her arms and chuckled at it before turning to see a small woman with short
white hair grinning at her.

Renee grinned back, wondering why she could see her but couldn’t
actually see her. It was weird. She looked a bit transparent in parts and every
time she moved she faded. Renee stared down at her glass. Clearly it was good
stuff.

“Well, Blondie, hope you like headaches ’cause the way you’re
knocking them back, it’s gonna stay awhile.”

Renee attempted to cock her head. She twinged a muscle in her neck
at the floppy-doll movement. “Nan?”

“One in the same. I ain’t got all day to sit around in a bar so
listen up.”

Renee leaned in to do so, slipping off her hand and thwacking her
head on the table. That was going to hurt tomorrow.

A shot of cold air along her spine made her snap her head up. Nan
laughed as she twinged her back.

“Darlin’, you ain’t got the legs to hold your liquor.”

Renee nodded. Nan bounced about before her eyes. So drunk.

“You remember that note I left you?”
Nan said, her hazy
image frowning at her.

“The one where you told me I was a basket?” Renee giggled. Her
ears buzzed.

Nan sighed.
“You want me to come back when you’re sober?”

Renee straightened up. Nope. No way. Long dead people were only
fun to chat to when inebriated. “Shoot.”

“Shorty has some growin’ to do.”
She held up her hand.
“In the head
before you start worrying.”

Thank goodness for that. It was hard enough trying to buy clothes
for her now.

“You remember when I said if you told her how you felt that she’d
bolt like her mother?”

Renee knew every single word of the note. She read it . . . a lot
. . . okay, so every night. “Yup.”

“I weren’t kiddin’ around. Her grandma and her momma were the
same.”

Renee held up her finger, wondering why it looked wavier than Nan.
“You’re her grandmother . . . aren’t you?”

“No, I’m her Nan.”
Nan reached out and touched her, causing goose bumps to ripple
all the way up her arm.

“Where did Lilia’s mother go?” Why was Lilia so hard to say when
she was drunk. Lili. Lali. Lily-yah.

“
Focus, Blondie
.” Nan shot another cold ripple up her back.
“
My daughter, Bess, had a bit of a free spirit. I raised her good an’ proper
. . .”
Renee chuckled. Free spirit, that was funny.
“ . . . and my
brothers were all good men, God rest their souls.
”

There were more Loreleis? Ooh, Lorelei was even harder to say.
Lor-rell-lees, Lor—

“So, Bess, wherever she may be, left . . .”

Renee nodded realizing that she may just have missed a
lot
.

“I ain’t seen her here so she’s still walking around causing
trouble some place.”
Nan narrowed her eyes like she knew Renee was miles away.
“When
Lilia did pretty much the same, I started seeing a pattern. An’ Shorty got the
same taste for fleeing.”

“I thought Lilia left to join the CIG?” Renee was sure that was
noble not fleeing, even if it had hurt Aeron.

“Sure, but when she was a teenager, she was wilder than Bess an’
we ain’t got a clue where she gets it from.”
Something in Nan’s eyes said that she
wasn’t being one hundred percent truthful.

She had eyes exactly like Aeron’s.

Aeron. Renee went to lean on her fist, missed and smacked her head
on the table again.

Yup, that would leave a bruise.

“Although I love learning about you all, I’m guessing you are here
to tell me something?” She was impressed how sober that sounded. A bit slurred
in places and she was sure that a lot of her s sounds had become “shounds” but
it was a great effort.

“Shorty is gonna haul attitude your way but I want you to
remember, that no matter what dumb things she does while she’s figuring things
out, she cares more for you than anybody else, including herself.”

Renee smiled. It was dopey. She couldn’t help it. “It’s a nice
thought, Nan, but—”

“No buts.”
Nan placed a non-existent finger over her lips. It tingled.
“You
got some growing to do yourself. So just bear it in mind. You got that?”

“I’m thirty five.” Renee squinted at her fingers. It was as close
to five as she could manage. “I’m all grown.”

“Uh huh.”

Renee tried to fold her arms and missed, punching the edge of the
booth. “You don’t think?”

“A grown woman don’t get hammered in a bar. She don’t get all
flushed when folks think things of her.”

Renee stared back up at the ceiling. “Don’t you start, I’ve had
the ‘get over yourself’ talk from Urs . . . ooo . . . oolah.”

Nan chuckled.
“Then consider yourself told. An’ Blondie?”

She could hear Nan’s voice fading and rolled her head to catch a
few remaining wavy dots.
“She’s a flight risk when mad but she got a good
heart. She cares.”

Renee smiled. “Right, no judgment, grow up, don’t tell her
anything. Check.”

Somewhere, way over . . . well there, Renee could hear Nan
chuckle. She chuckled too, knowing somewhere in her logical mind that she may
have just become insane.

“Just,” she slurred to herself. “Been there a while, I’d say.”

Thinking too much hurt, but Renee made the effort to try and
memorize Nan’s advice. Aeron had attitude. She knew that. She met her in
Serenity Hills when posing as her psychiatrist.

Aeron Lorelei had a bucket load of it.

That made her grin.

There was nothing wrong with being fiery. Nope.

Aeron was trouble or had trouble with fleeing, she couldn’t
remember. She’d go with trouble? Well, Aeron’s past did give that one credence.
Before she’d been locked away, Aeron had a rap sheet longer than Renee cared to
look too deeply into. Sam had led her into trouble but she got the feeling that
Aeron didn’t need a lot of persuading.

Trouble. Attitude.

A flight risk. Lilia had left, and if she wasn’t hallucinating or
crazy then the grandmother had done the same. Which meant Aeron could bolt for
the hills at any moment. Renee wasn’t too sure about that. She’d wanted to stay
in Oppidum. She’d wanted to stay in St. Jude’s. If anything, Aeron was happy to
be rooted, somewhere,
anywhere
.

Nope, she’d cross that one off, whatever the Nan delusion or
hallucination said. She peered at her glass. Could tequila make you
hallucinate?

Aeron had a good heart and she cared. Renee was convinced of that.
Aeron had the biggest heart. She was so sweet and loving that she suffered for
it sometimes.

“To help her grow, you need to grow yourself.” Renee wagged her
finger in the air as she told herself. “That means try being a professional.”

She needed to be a good example. A responsible guide and leader.
Someone who Aeron could count on for impartial advice yet never crossed over
boundaries.

The door to the bar opened sending a blast of wind at Renee and
she nodded to herself in agreement. From now on she was a commander, a
professional.

“Hey, Renee, don’t look now but you got a mountain heading in your
direction.”

At Fitzpatrick’s weird announcement, Renee peeked over at the
door.

Aeron.

Aeron in a biker jacket and jeans. Her hair swept out of her face.
A twinkle in her eyes, and a v-necked white t-shirt showing off every muscle
she had.

Renee’s heart did some odd happy dance. She groaned and thunked
her head to the table.

Professional, right.

Good luck with that.

SEEING RENEE SMACK her head on the table, I hurried over to her.
She was dressed up in a military skirt suit, the jacket draped over the edge of
the booth and her shirt rolled up to the elbows. She wasn’t impeccable like
always and she looked . . . well . . . kinda inebriated.

“You okay, you need me to get you somethin’?” I sat opposite her,
wondering why she’d needed to drown herself in—I picked up the glass and
smelled it—tequila or near it.

Renee shook her head, which succeeded in making her roll her head
around on the surface. Her blonde hair draped into whatever goop covered the
table top.

“You eaten?” Maybe if I got some food inside her she would sober
up a bit.

“Black doesn’t need food,” Fitzpatrick slurred at me as he stood
next to the booth, wobbling. He wore a suit, unlike Renee. Some folks on the
base didn’t wear uniforms. I never got why. “She’s got a date with Jack.” He
shook a whiskey glass.

“No, she ain’t.” I got up and went around to her. She looked
green. I weren’t a fan of folks drinking. Usually, being around them made me
feel a bit wobbly too. “Renee, you eaten?”

She picked her head up with her hands to peer up at me, a bar mat
stuck to her cheek. “This morning count?”

I pulled her sleeve up and checked her watch. “It’s half past
eight.” Trying my best not to glare, I focused on Fitzpatrick. “When did you
start drinking?”

He grinned and downed his glass. He had spilled I didn’t know what
down the front of his shirt. “Liquid lunch.”

Great.

“Well, you’ve had enough.” I hoisted Renee up into my arms and
flicked her jacket over her. No way was she gonna be able to walk. “We’re gonna
get some food in you and water . . .” The wave of alcohol hit me as she clung
on. The woman had drunk half of the Mississippi I swore.

“Nan says hi,” she slurred into my shoulder as I carried her out
into the cool air. “You’re trouble, Lorelei.”

“That’s what she says, huh?” I doubted Renee had seen anything.
One, she couldn’t and two, she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.

“Yup. Did you know your Nan was your great-grandma?” She nodded
when I looked down at her. “She ran off . . . like Lilia.”

I didn’t know that. I mean, I hadn’t even known if Nan was related
to me at all until she’d said so in a letter. “Where’d she go?”

“Nan doesn’t know. She said I need to grow up.”

Either I wasn’t getting it or Renee was talking drunk. I went with
the latter as she didn’t have the ability to see nothing. Before she met me,
she didn’t think folks could either. If you didn’t count my mother.

“’Cause you can’t stand?”

Renee nodded, her cheek still had pieces of mat stuck to it. “And
I’m thirty-five. Grown-ups do not get hammered, do you know that?”

“Sometimes they do but for a reason, or if they got a problem.”
Renee didn’t have a problem, I knew that much. I hadn’t ever seen her drink
more than a glass come to think of it.

“The reason is that I’m thirty-five.” She lolled her head back
against my arm. Her jacket slid and I caught it before it dropped onto the
ground. 

“I got that but why does that particular age make you drink?”

She grinned up at me. She tried to tuck my hair behind my ear for
me but instead poked me in the eye. “It’s today,” she whispered.

Today? She held onto my shoulders as I freed up one hand to fish
in her pockets for her keys. “Your birthday?”

She nodded, head butting me as she did so. “Yup. Old maid.”

Guilt hit me in the gut with a shovel. “You kiddin’ me?”