Thomas Perry - Shadow Woman

It wasn’t a statement Jane could ignore. “It’s true, and it’s not an accident. It protects him, and it protects me, and it protects you. When I take on a person like you, we both have to be aware that some day I might very well be caught. Years from now I might be asked where you are and what name I gave you. There are things that could be done to make me want very much to tell. My promise to you is simply that I won’t tell. If there’s no other way, I’ll commit suicide to avoid it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She let the knowledge settle on him for a moment. He seemed unable to take the next step. “If I tell you about my family and friends, are you willing to do the same before you’ll tell anyone?”

He thought about it for a long time. “I would want to. I don’t think I could.”

“And you don’t have to, because you don’t know about them. But I can’t help knowing about you, so I’m stuck. I gave my word.”

Pete nodded thoughtfully. “We’re back to last night, aren’t we?”

“If you want to be,” she said.

“Why you said no.”

She sighed. “Marriages are fragile. When you boil off all the nonsense, what they amount to is a promise.”

She could tell he had no trouble understanding her. If she could break that promise to her own husband, then strangers like Pete Hatcher wouldn’t stand a chance. “Okay. I won’t grill you anymore.”

“Keep asking questions. It’s what we’re doing together,” said Jane. “I want you to learn everything you can. I want you to get as good at this as I am, because in one more day I’m going to take you somewhere, get you settled, and go home. You’re my last trip.”

He stared at her. “In a way, I’m glad,” he said. “I’m a little scared. One more day isn’t much time. But I’m glad for you. This is a crazy way to live.”

“It took me a long time to reach that conclusion. I guess I had to find another way to live before I could admit it. But I’m taken care of. Let’s get rid of what’s still bothering you.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I seem to be having trouble imagining a future. That makes it hard to ask questions about it.”

“I know some of it,” Jane said. “You’ll live in a place that’s pleasant, but maybe has a few security features most people wouldn’t pay extra for. This morning I was thinking that one of those small, gated developments might suit you. The identity I’m going to give you is terrific, so you could survive the checks they do on new residents. The rent-a-cops wouldn’t present much of an obstacle to the people who are after you, but the entry gates make it difficult for them to drive through and browse. They’re pros, so their main concern is getting out afterward.”

“It sounds logical.”

“We’ll find you a job. You were a manager in Las Vegas, so we’ll get you something at about the same level in the new town. It will have to be something where you have less contact with outsiders, so we’ll pick a company that limits it, somehow—maybe one that sells equipment only to doctors, or physicists, or—”

“How?”

“How what?”

“How do I get a job at that level in a business I’ve never been in?”

She smiled. “That’s something I’ll help you with. I’m a representative from an executive head-hunting agency. I’ve got a promising prospect. I sell you to them. I’ve already checked all your references, et cetera, so the company doesn’t have to.”

“You can pull that off?”

“Sure. I do it by not cheating too much. Your résumé won’t list your real college, but it will have equivalent courses from another one. Your references won’t come from Pleasure, Inc., but they’ll come from a company that has a similar corporate structure, and I won’t lie about your place in the hierarchy. And I’ll be very clear about my fee.”

“You actually collect a fee?”

“Of course. It will be the same fee other companies like mine charge. Otherwise your employers would know I’m a fraud.”

“So now I have a condo and a job. Good start.”

“A condo in the center of the development, that can’t be watched from outside the gate. A job you like and are qualified to do, that keeps you busy. All you have to do is keep from making mistakes.”

“Mistakes—you mean the ball games and movies and all that.”

“I said that I train you to be the new person, to the extent that I can. What I can’t do is give you an identity that doesn’t fit.” She paused. “That’s why I’m glad last night happened.”

“You’re working up to writing me off.”

Jane smiled, but her brows knitted. “I thought we were past that game. You pretend to be shocked at your own behavior and deeply humiliated that I know about it. This forces me to choose between two roles—the scandalized schoolmistress who talks to you with pinch-faced distaste, or the conspiratorial madam who tells you it’s cute. Either way, we evade the real issue.”

“What is the real issue? My sex life?”

“Your life, period. Suppose I tell you that having sex with strangers is dangerous. Is that news? Does it change anything?”

He looked down, silent.

“How about that it’s even more dangerous for you, because the people who are chasing you know that you do it?”

He watched her, but still said nothing.

“You could improve your chances a lot just by being slightly more selective. Women who go to church social groups are less likely to be decoys than ones who step out of dark doorways after midnight wearing two ounces of nylon. And church groups are notorious for being exactly what you need. Join a group for singles. Every woman there is looking for a man, and they outnumber the men two to one. Someone like you would be very welcome.”

“Are you trying to help me, or get back at me for embarrassing you last night?”

“I’m being realistic. Even if I were trying to embarrass you, who cares? Will anything I think about your personal life matter when you’re on your own? No, and it shouldn’t.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“When I sent you to Denver I hadn’t had time to get to know you. I expected you to live like a monk. Maybe you did too. This time, let’s get it right. Those security-minded condo places are that way because they’re full of young, career-minded women. You’ll find them hanging around the pools and the exercise rooms. Some of the owners’ associations even have parties where the eligible women will push themselves in front of your nose. Take them. Enjoy yourself. But stick to your story. Never reveal anything that doesn’t fit.”

Hatcher looked at her sadly. “I thought you were just being the pinch-faced schoolmarm. It’s way past that, isn’t it? You sound like a scientist talking about rats.”

She reached out and touched his hand, then regretted it and pulled back. “I’m sorry. I’m just being professional. If you’re happy, you’ll be able to stay in one quiet, safe place for a long time. If you’re not, you’ll take risks to get happy. So I need to make you happy for as long as I can.”

“But you don’t feel anything.”

“I don’t feel what you feel. You see any woman on the youngish side with round breasts and the right ratio of hips to waist, and you want her. I can know that, but knowing is all I can do. It’s all any of us can do. And what you did last night wasn’t shocking or particularly newsworthy. It was just something I needed to be reminded of.”

“You’re taking one incident and weaving it into a rope to tie around my neck.”

“No,” she said. “This is hard for me to talk about, so let me get it all out of the way. Last night I watched a young woman strip off a wet bathing suit to put on makeup at two A.M. so she could lure you away from her best friend. Ignoring the power, the need that makes people do that would be stupid. Will you personally take the chance of getting killed for sex? Sure. Scratch the topsoil anywhere on the planet and you’ll find the bones of people who maybe didn’t all know it, but who died over the instinct to mate. It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact. What I think about it, or feel about it, or what the implications are for romantic love or babies or families or anything else is irrelevant. All I can do is get out of the way. In this case it means putting you in the right location, so you’ll survive.”